


A Promise For Treason

by Tybolt_Silver



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Adventure, Alcohol, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Angst, Anti-Hero, Assassination Attempt(s), Attempted Murder, Battle Couple, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Childhood Friends, Clone Wars, Completed, Conspiracy, Count Dooku’s daughter, Count Dooku’s son, During Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ending Fix, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Father Figures, Female Anti-Hero, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Forbidden Love, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Growing Up, Happy Ending, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Use of Lightsabers, Interspecies Relationship(s), Jedi Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Love Confessions, MASSIVE Plot-twist, Matricide, Murder, Murder Family, Mutual Pining, New apprentice for Obi-Wan, Novel, Original Character(s), POV Third Person, Partners to Lovers, Patricide, Pining, Plot, Plot Twists, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Requited Love, Romance, Secret Relationship, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Strong Female Characters, Strong male characters, Treachery, Treason, Villains to Heroes, War, Well-Written, long fic, pre-written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 161,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tybolt_Silver/pseuds/Tybolt_Silver
Summary: When Ares of Serenno wakes up with fresh wounds and painful memories on an empty ship hurtling through hyperspace, he has a mind for one thing: patricide. To get it, he must align with the enemy of his enemy, The Jedi Order. In his way stands the Order’s underlying distrust of him, his sister’s ambitions, and the secret plot to dupe the galaxy.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/Original Character(s), Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Lux Bonteri & Original Female Character(s), Lux Bonteri/Steela Gerrera, Lux Bonterri/Original Female Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano & Original Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 210
Kudos: 41





	1. An Unexpected Ally

# 

#  **Chapter 1 – An Unexpected Ally**

As Ares had become quickly aware, a severed hand was excruciatingly painful. His own rang with agony and he cradled it closer to his chest in a miserable attempt to stop the pain. He could barely think about anything other than the pain and the putrid smell of burnt flesh. _Father will pay for this_ , he thought bitterly. He tried not to focus on the pain, however difficult that task was, and only about how he would present his case to the Jedi Order.

For what felt like the hundredth time, he leaned forward to check that his ship’s hyperdrive co-ordinates were correct. He dreaded to think how he was going to steer with one hand once they jumped out of hyperspace and how he was going to find his way around a city that engulfed a planet. For once in his life, there weren’t even any droids around. He was completely alone.

Ares looked at the co-pilot’s seat. He had placed a curved, silver lightsabre - his father’s stolen lightsabre. He couldn’t quite remember how he had gotten it or how he managed to drag himself to a ship and fly away. Surely, something as dastardly as stealing his father’s lightsabre would be easy to remember and yet… nothing. His memory was fogged and clouded, and yet he knew that what happened had indeed happened. The pain must have smeared the memory.

Ares couldn’t remember much at all now that he thought about it. After he had woken up from a long dream on the floor of his Raxillian shuttle, he knew only three things: his hand was cut off, he had his father’s lightsabre and he would stop at nothing to get his revenge on the old man. His plan just… came to him. It was the most logical thing to do: to go to his father’s enemies. Count Dooku was too powerful to fight alone. His smouldering hand was proof of that. Besides, the enemy of his enemy would be his friend.

The ship came out of hyperspace.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” the boy said to himself as he took the steering handle into his one good hand. Thankfully, his father had chosen to chop his non-dominant left hand.

Coruscant was larger than he could have possibly imagined. Not only did the massive circumference the planet, but it had several layers of depth. He was already starting to miss the comfort of his home of Raxus. Even Serenno, the cold ancestral seat that gave him his name, would be more welcome that this strange place. Thankfully, he remembered enough of his studies to remember the famous landmarks and identified the massive cuboid building of the Jedi Temple. He set his ship down in the landing bay outside and sat back to admire it for a moment. For his entire life, his father had taught him to hate the Jedi and the Republic and to be the tool to bring them down. Ares had spent an entire childhood spitting on the Jedi Code. Now he was here. _The universe had a sense of humour_ , he thought as he stepped out of the ship.

He was stopped at the main gates by two Jedi Temple Sentries. Their double-edged, yellow blades halted his path. “State your business, intruder,” the taller one said. 

“I’m hardly an intruder if I’m walking through the main gates,” Ares replied. “I wish to speak with the Jedi Council. Urgently.”

“What do you have to say to the Council?” the other, shorter Sentry said.

“My business with them is not for you,” Ares replied.

“The Council is not in session at the moment,” the tall one said.

Ares sighed. Bureaucracy was exhausting. “I’m the son of Count Dooku. Do you think the Council will reconvene for my sake?” He took his father’s lightsabre off his belt without igniting it to show them that he wasn’t lying.

That was how he managed to get himself inside the temple and into the High Tower. He stood at the centre of the circular room surrounded by Jedi Masters. Masters Yoda, Windu, Unduli, Mundi and Kenobi were physically present, whilst Plo Koon, Secura, Ti, Koth, Fisto, Gallia and Piell were holograms. Dooku had made his son memorise his enemies’ names, histories, strengths and weaknesses. Somehow those facts came more clearly into his brain than what had transpired in the past twelve hours.

“What matters do you have with the Jedi Council, boy?” asked Mace Windu.

Ares took a deep breath, calming his mind. “My name is Ares of Serenno, son of Count Dooku. I come before you … seeking to aid this group of warriors in ending my father, in any way that I can. You are the order that he is trying to destroy. We can help each other,” he said, cautiously, and then showed them his severed hand. “I seek nothing but vengeance. My father has denied me the things that I hold most dear and so I want to take from him that which he loves most: his dreams of a galaxy under his rule.”

“How can we trust a traitor?”

“How can we trust the son of a traitor?”

“This is obviously a trick!”

“We should detain him whilst we have the chance!”

“He’s just like his father. His face and manners alone are too much like Dooku’s; his cunning and treachery will be as well.”

“I sense the darkness within him.” These were just some of the protests of the Masters cried, but they all became quiet when the oldest amongst them spoke.

“Much darkness, I sense. Converted to the light, never before a Sith has,” said Master Yoda. “Trust you, why should we?”

“I wouldn’t call myself a Sith. I never completed my training or my dark baptism or even travelled to a Sith Temple. My father, who was my teacher, never even gave me my dark name. Contrary to what your order may believe, it is not an easy thing to become a Sith – there’s a long waiting list.” The attempt at a joke was not met with any response. He pressed on. “And I do not seek to impose upon your traditions or become a member or even convert to the light – I fear that I would only insult you if I did that. I only wish to end Dooku and I cannot do so alone. I have tried and failed… evidently.”

“Traditionally, a Sith apprentice kills his master,” said Kenobi.

“And you’re an expert on Sith traditions, Master Kenobi? Then again, you are the only Jedi to have killed a Sith in a very long time, so perhaps you are. No, this is not the case of the Rule of Two. I am not the Sith Apprentice because that title is reserved for my father. He has a master, who I never met. It would be his duty to overthrow him if he was to become the Sith Master. I had never become initiated into the Sith Order,” said Ares.

“Count Dooku has a master?” asked Plo Koon, feigning naivete.

“Yes,” said Ares. “Although I’m afraid that I know very little about him. My father kept him secret… for obvious reasons.”

“What drove him to cast you out, boy?” asked Windu.

“My memory is very foggy. I remember being furious after having learnt a terrible secret. My father had been ordered to kill me by his master and he had chosen to follow those orders. We duelled. Evidently, it had gone terribly,” said Ares as he lifted his severed arm once again. “But the next thing I knew, I was waking up on my ship with his lightsabre, stolen. Force knows how. I think the pain has blinded the memory of the event. I do not remember the details.”

“We cannot trust him this easily,” said Piell. “Some of us will remember that his father served on this very council once and he betrayed us. We cannot trust the son of the traitor so easily.”

“I understand that it would be foolish to trust the son of your enemies so quickly. Perform whatever tests or rituals you like, Master Jedi. I can prove that I have severed myself from my father and that I am your ally,” Ares said. “I hope that in time you will trust me enough to aid you in your crusade against the Confederacy and the Sith.”

“Separatists,” said Luminara Unduli. Ares looked at her questioningly. “Here, in the Republic, we call them Separatists. Not Confederacy.”

“My mistake,” said Ares. “Old habits.”

“Count Dooku had left the Jedi Order 20 years ago. How old are you boy?” Asked Kenobi, suddenly becoming aware of the boy’s youth.

“16, sir,” answered Ares.

“Do you have any military experience?” asked Plo Koon.

“I have been trained as a commander of the Droid Army. I was supposed to take a commission as a commander before my father… changed his mind,” said Ares.

“To consider all this, time we need,” said Yoda. 

“I agree,” said Windu.

“We will send our Temple’s doctor to tend to your wounds,” added Kenobi, seeing the boy’s pain. It no doubt reminded the Jedi Master of his own padawan’s dismemberment at the hands of Dooku on Geonosis not that long ago. “Sith or not, the boy is need of help.”

Ares bowed, grateful. His eyes glanced at the curved lightsabre in Yoda’s hand. The Grandmaster was looking at the sabre, sorrowful; no doubt he was mourning his former dark student through it. Ares didn’t want to leave the blade with them, but the Sentry guard pushed him out and he was shuffled out of the room. Once outside, he released a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding and realised how stupid his plan had been. They could have killed him.

[][][]

The Sentries brought the boy to the medical quarters where a doctor spoke to him. She smiled at him warmly, which felt like the first smile he had seen all month. “Greetings, young man. I’m the Temple doctor. The Council has ordered me to assist you with your injuries.”

“Yes, thank you,” said Ares, proffering her his arm.

“That looks like a clean cut,” she said as she set about treating him.

“What’s your name?” Ares asked, habitually. Dark apprentice or not, good manners and behaviour had been ingrained in aristocratic DNA.

“I’m Doctor Rig Nema,” she said. “And you?”

“Ares,” he answered.

“I’m going to give you some pain killers,” she said before sticking a syringe into his neck. He didn’t feel a thing. “And build you a new hand. Fortunately for you, that happens to be my speciality. Now, lie back.”

Ares complied and turned his head away, not wanting to see the operation. He sighed. “May I close my eyes for some rest? It has been a very long day.”

“I’ll bet it has been. Go ahead,” the doctor said.

Over the next two hours, the doctor and her droid assistants operated on him whilst he slept. He was plagued by dreams of darkness and manic laughter, so the doctor awoke him and gave him some warm tea, which he gratefully accepted.

“How’s it looking, doc?” he asked.

“Almost perfect if I do say so myself. I just need to perform the sensory test,” she informed him and beckoned a droid to her. With a sharp needle, the droid prodded each of the boy’s fingers, which recoiled in response.

“Ow! I felt that!” He said, before realizing what he said. “I felt that! Wow, good as new!” He examined his new hand. It looked gold and heavy and… foreign. It would be weird to have that as his hand now, but he could feel with it the usual sensations of a normal hand and he could move all the fingers at will. There was no pain. “Thank you, Doctor Nema! Your work is exemplar!”

“My pleasure, Ares,” she said, smiling at him kindly. “Try using the Force with it.” Ares lifted a crate full of medical supplies and then set it down, gently. “Seems okay. It will be functional in water too. Any problems with it, come and find me.”

“I’ll try not to lose this one,” said Ares, jokingly.

“It’s good that you have a sense of humour about this,” she said and started packing her things when the Jedi Masters entered the med-bank.

Dooku had taught him that when force-wielders were younglings, they typically had one force ability that was more developed. It was how the Jedi made their lists of future recruits. Since before he could remember, Ares’ innate powers had been emotions. The emotions of other people, even the concealed ones, were an open book for him to read. That is not to say that emotions were not complex, because they were, but Ares just had a natural disposition to seek them out, even subconsciously. The emotions of these Jedi were clouded with disapproval and insecurity, but in that crowd, Ares could sense a glimmer of hope and optimism amongst a few of them.

“Don’t bother packing up, Doctor. We need you to run a few more tests on our guest,” said Windu.

“What kind of tests?” Ares asked.

“A truth serum examination to see if you were telling the truth. A fully body scan to see if the Separatists have implanted any espionage devices in you. A brain scans. And then a purification trial,” said Kenobi. “If you can go through all that, we will also ask you to swear an oath to the Republic and the Jedi Order.”

“What’s a purification trial?” Ares asked.

“A Jedi ritual usually used for cleansing Jedi of their spiritual wrongdoings. It is a trial for those seeking redemption. We believe it will benefit you greatly if what you say is true,” said Mundi.

“I have no interest in redemption. My only desire is vengeance,” corrected Ares.

“Just do it as a goodwill gesture to our order. There’s no threat of danger to you. Our fellow Jedi Masters will feel much at ease if they were not dealing with a practitioner of the dark arts,” said Kenobi.

“Alright. If it eases the consciences of others, then let’s get started,” said Ares.

[][][]

The truth serum examination did not tell the Council anything the boy had not already told them. He answered all their questions. He gave them the names of Senate members that were dinner guests in Dooku’s home, such as the likes of Rush Clovis, and names of members in the Separatist Parliament that would make for allies. He gave them everything he could think of that was useful to them, in addition to everything they asked.

A full body scan indicated there were no devices in his body that would compromise him or them. He was clean.

His brain showed signs of unusual activity in the cortex responsible for memory and emotions, but the doctor reassured the Jedi that this was normal for someone after experiencing trauma and may explain why he couldn’t remember clearly recent events. The boy had been telling the truth about everything.

The purification trial was what he was secretly looking forward to. He had spent his whole life learning the ways of the dark arts, training to bring down the Jedi Order, but he had never seen a purely Jedi religious practise in action.

He was instructed to strip to his boxers and then wade into a pool of the purest water in the very heart of the temple. The Jedi Masters would use the force to… well, they didn’t clarify what they would do. He simply had to trust them. The thought was uneasy and so he focused instead on his new prosthetic and if it would function in the water as well as it did on land.

“Ares of Serenno,” said Yoda, bringing him out of his self-imposed distraction. “Acknowledge do you, the wrong that you have done in the past?”

Ares thought that was a bit rich. What had he done wrong? Be born? Listen to his father as a child? Was that a sin? He tried to think of what war crimes he could be accused of. “What wrong is that, Master Yoda?”

“Learned the ways of the dark side, you have,” clarified Yoda.

It had not been his choice. He had been a boy; a dutiful, obedient son to his dark father. Weren’t the choices he made to break free more important? A bubble of anger rose in his chest at the accusations. “I’ll concede that I studied them and enjoyed my research, but I hardly believe that was a fault,” he said, trying to override his anger his polite diplomacy.

“Wish you, to cleanse yourself of the Sith?”

 _It’s just water_ , he thought. “I seek to destroy the two Sith Lords.” He could say that honestly.

“Then, beneath the water, submerge you must. If honest in those intentions, you are, know, we will,” said Yoda.

Ares did as he was instructed. Taking a deep breath, he felt the water seep in. The pool was deeper than he had expected it to be. Immediately, he sensed the force moving through, around and within him. Suddenly, there was a tight grip on his throat as if someone was choking him and he began to thrash under the water. No, not choking… it was more like something was reaching inside his throat to pull out… he didn’t know what. A dark smoky shadow with red eyes secreted from his lungs. It gave a fearsome roar, the full intensity of which was absorbed by the water, and then it evaporated in the clear liquid. A beam of light emitted from the pool around the Jedi and Ares burst from the water, gasping for breath and scrambling for support above the water. 

“What was that?!” he yelled.

“Cleansed, you have been. See to it that you stay cleansed, young one,” said Yoda. “Come out, you can.”

“It was just water! It was supposed to be just water!” He hit a splash of it in his frustration.

“It was,” said Windu. “Get dressed and we’ll see you in the High Tower.”

He waited for them all to file out before he got out of the pool. When he went to pick up his clothes, he managed to get a glimpse of himself in the mirror and backed away. The trial had altered him. His hair was crowned with an icy white colour, though his original coal black roots crept beneath it. His skin positively beamed bright, an effect that was starting to fade the longer he stayed out of the water. His eyes, though they remained brown, now had sparks of gold. He not only looked different, he felt different… lighter, optimistic, more… free? The weight on his feet seemed different. He couldn’t quite describe it.

“That’s… bizarre,” he said, poking and prodding the new features of his appearance.

He got dressed quickly and left the medical quarters. Notably, the Sentries were dismissed, and he now had to find his own way to the High Tower. Now, if they could only give him back his father’s lightsabre then he’d be much more at ease.

[][][]

As he walked into their Council Chamber, the masters’ discussion died.

“Step forward, Ares of Serenno,” said Kenobi. Ares noticed that his father’s lightsabre was now in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s possession.

“You have given our council much to discuss,” Plo Koon said.

“We’ve debated extensively about this matter and I’m afraid that the council is much divided about this issue,” said Shaak Ti. “You will not have an easy path on the journey that you have selected to take, young man.”

“I don’t expect so, Master Jedi,” replied Ares. “We are all born to have difficult journeys.”

“The Council has decided to grant you amnesty from the Separatists,” said Windu. “You will serve as an advisor of the council when called upon. You will placed under Master Kenobi’s guardianship.”

“So that I can keep an eye on you, young man,” said Kenobi. There was a warm smile on the man’s face; a reassurance that everything would be alright. “And since you’ll be spending so much time with me, and I’ll so often be on the battlefield, you’ll be given the honorary title of Captain of the Grand Army of the Republic assigned to the 212th Attack Battalion.”

“I’m very grateful to the Council,” Ares said. He honestly didn’t think that this plan would have worked so far. He could have so easily been killed or imprisoned or ransomed back to Dooku. _Don’t jinx it yet,_ he thought to himself. There was an eternity of time and opportunity for that to happen.

“But, we have also decided that we will not be completing your training. Master Kenobi and any other Jedi is expressly forbidden from completing your training,” said Plo Koon.

“…understandable,” said Ares.

Kenobi rose from his seat and walked up to the young man. “I hope this is the start of a great partnership, Ares of Serenno,” he said and gave the boy his father’s curved hilt lightsabre back. Ares took it immediately, feeling it’s reassuring cold grip.

“I hope so too, Master Kenobi,” said Ares.

“Now, bow down before this council and swear an oath to the Republic and the Jedi Order,” said Windu, eager to see the young man bow down before the very things he was born to destroy. _Ironic_ , Ares thought in response to the Jedi Master’s abundant eagerness. Oaths were promises, which Siths and dark apprentices were trained not to value.

“Which oath?” Ares asked.

“We think that since you will be serving as a soldier it would be fitting for you to swear a military oath, the one that our clones swear upon finishing their training. We’ve changed some of the words to be more fitting to your situation,” said Kenobi, whilst giving Ares a datapad that had the words on it.

Ares took a deep breath and went down on one knee. He ignited the red-bladed lightsabre to swear upon it. “In days of War, in nights of Death, Obey the Republic forever more, With Blue & Red as Markings, I answer to The Jedi Order, I fight for Justice and Security!” He stood up and placed the lightsabre on his belt.

“Welcome, young one,” said Kenobi with welcoming arms and warm blue eyes.

[][][]

“These will be your quarters whilst you live on Coruscant,” Kenobi said. He had escorted him to the dormitories and used the opportunity to talk more personally. Loathe as Ares was to admit, it was… nice of him.

The room was basic: a bed, a window, a meditation map and some book on the Jedi Order. There was also some change of clothes that sported Republican insignia, which Ares was grateful for because his own robes were scorched and bloodied. “We will be leaving for military duty in a few days, so don’t get too comfortable. Here’s some credits for you to get by on for now, until payday. Do you have any questions?”

“I’m not your padawan... just so we’re clear,” Ares clarified. As much as he hated his father, he wasn’t thrilled to be with the Jedi Order now. 

“I know,” said Kenobi. “But if you do want to learn a thing or two about the world, stay close and keep your ears open, Captain.” Kenobi had a warm, fatherly smile. It was nice. Ares couldn’t quite remember the last time Dooku had smiled like that at him.

“Will do, General.”

Ares was about to retire for the evening and get some much needed rest when the voice of Kenobi and the entrance of a new force-signature stopped him.

“Anakin, what are you doing here?”

Ares turned to see the famed Chosen One walking towards them. There was something very familiar about the man and it wasn’t just his military history. Ares _knew_ this man from somewhere.

“Heard you got yourself a new padawan. Came to meet my replacement,” said Anakin. He clearly didn’t recognise Ares – so where did Ares know him from? The connection was too strong to just be from studies. 

“Not a padawan. A ward,” said Kenobi. “Ares, this irreplaceable man is Anakin Skywalker, my former padawan.”

“So, you’re Dooku’s spawn?” Anakin asked, accusatively.

“Unfortunately,” Ares replied, defensively crossing his arms. The Chosen One looked like he wanted a confrontation. Ares looked him over. It was hard to think of someone less likely to bring balance to the force.

Skywalker smirked. “You sure do look a lot like him.”

“Not much I can do about that, is there?” said Ares, crossing his arms defensively. “My objective is to destroy him.”

“Hm, join the club,” said Skywalker.

“I have. I literally just did that,” said Ares, glaring with hatred.

“Good. Good to know that at least some of the Seppies have some common sense,” said Skywalker. Ares glared at him.

An exasperated sigh interrupted the glaring competition between the two young men. Ares looked behind Skywalker and saw a young, orange Togruta girl about his age. She was skinny but well-toned. Her white markings highlighted her face skeptical expression. There was a padawan braid clipped to her lekku and a lightsabre on her belt. Maybe it was the species, but she was quite pretty. Ares crooked an eyebrow at her.

“Ares, this is Anakin’s padawan, Ahsoka Tano,” said Obi-Wan. “I have a feeling the two of you will be seeing plenty of each other. Anakin and I often fight together.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” said Ares, genially.

“Hi,” she responded, distrustful, just like her master.

“Perhaps Ahsoka can give a tour of the Temple to our new comrade?” Obi-Wan politely asked the padawan. “Anakin and I have some matters to discuss.”

Ahsoka sent Obi-Wan a look of betrayal before sighing and waving for Ares to follow her. “Fine. Come on… comrade.” Ares smirked; he was going to enjoy this.

[][][]

Anakin crossed his arms and looked at Kenobi. “How did this get a green light from the Jedi Council?”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and beckoned his former student to walk with him. “Oh, can you be calm? He’s just lost his family, his home and all his friends. He came to the Jedi Council for help, not knowing if he would be executed or imprisoned for war crimes. We like to be angry at the Separatists for not seeking redemption, but when one does come to us you start bickering about casting him out.” Kenobi paused. “That’s roughly the speech that I gave to the Council to persuade them.”

“What if he’s a traitor?! A spy?! What if he betrays us? And you’ve just given him a military title that grants him access to our military data,” Anakin hissed.

Obi-Wan looked as if he had been expecting this argument. Indeed, he had only rebutted it an hour ago to his colleagues. “His father sliced his arm off. I don’t think he’ll want to be giving any aid to the Separatists any time soon,” said Obi-Wan.

“He was trained exclusively in the ways of the dark side. How are you not hearing this?” Anakin asked again.

“Perhaps, but that is only because he has had no other choices. We performed the cleansing trial. He came out altered. There’s hope for him yet,” said Kenobi.

“Obi-Wan, you… you’re making a mistake!” Anakin said.

“I don’t think I am. Now, be civil to him. He’s just a boy,” said Kenobi.

[][][]

“I’m going to use my incredible powers of deduction here and assume that you are not at ease,” said Ares as they walked away from the dormitories and the two Jedi Knights. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Wow,” Ahsoka deadpanned. “What gave it away?”

“I thought anger was not the Jedi way,” said Ares. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re a Separatist and, likely, a Sith and I’ll have to work and fight alongside you from now. That’s what’s wrong,” said Ahsoka.

“Hey, I defected,” said Ares. “I got… purified and swore oaths and stuff,” he added, noncommittally.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” said Ahsoka. “Separatists are all liars.”

He thought that was a fairly one-sided point of view, but, given his own acquaintances, decided he didn’t have enough evidence to rebut it. “It’s hardly my fault if I was born the son of the Head of the Confederate Government. Can you at least admit that?”

Ahsoka crossed her arms and looked him over. Had Ares been the son of any other man, he would have most likely been brought to the Temple, like her. They would have grown up together. Their close age meant that they might have been in the same padawan cell. They might have duelled and studied together and gone to Illum to get their lightsabre crystals together had circumstances been just a little bit different.

“Fine,” she conceded. “Doesn’t make me trust you more, though.”

He chuckled. “Ah, that’s good. The important thing is that it doesn’t make you trust me less.”

Ahsoka huffed. “Why are you so annoying?”

“Annoying girls until they lose their cool is my favourite hobby. Now come on, I was promised a tour. Where is it?” He had an infectious smile, she found, which added to her irritation. 

“I’m taking you to the Room of a Thousand Fountains,” she growled. “We’ll start there and move around the Temple to the Library and sparring arena.”

“Excellent. Glad your duties of hospitality are still on your mind,” he smirked. “So… how long have you been a padawan?”

She already knew where this conversation would be going. He was going to comment on how young she was to be a padawan. She had heard it so many times, not least in her own head. “A few weeks,” she answered.

He smiled as if he had his own private joke. Ahsoka prepared herself to be mocked and strategized what she’d do if he dared cross that line. “Aren’t Jedi brought to the Temple as younglings? You must have waited for a long time to have this opportunity. Is it everything you hoped it would be?” he asked.

The questions surprised her, namely because it was not the usual remark to her somewhat premature promotion. He smiled at her shocked expression – he liked watching her face. That made her scowl more. “Yes. Serving the Jedi Order is my lifelong dream,” she said.

“Don’t you ever feel… estranged? You would have had a family and a different life had you not been a Jedi, right?” he asked, though there was no mockery in his voice. It seemed almost genuine curiosity.

“Perhaps, but… that’s not the will of the Force,” she said. “Was becoming a… er- Sith Lord your lifelong dream?” She realised how absurd that question was and cursed the Council once again.

He shrugged. “I… don’t know. Can it really be a lifelong dream if I haven’t known anything else? I know that it had been my father’s dream to overthrow his master and he saw in me a weapon to get him to that goal. Well… me and another student, an assassin named Assajj Ventress – an heir and a spare, as they say. I suspect that he’ll dispatch her now to finish me off,” said Ares, glancing down at his prosthetic. It was strange that his arm was so heavy now.

“If you’re trying to get pity out of me, you won’t get it,” said Ahsoka, harshly.

“Ouch, Padawan Ahsoka, isn’t compassion the Jedi way?” he asked.

There it was. Finally. Some of that sense of self-superiority and mockery she had been waiting to rebuff. “Don’t talk about or mock things you don’t understand,” Ahsoka said, too savagely in retrospect. He threw his hands up, as if surrendering, but kept the amused smirk on his face. The girl huffed. “We’ve arrived at the Room of a Thousand Fountains,” she said, much tamer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could swear his smirk grew slightly.

She started her tour, explaining the significant landmarks of the Temple. He kept throwing in smart-arse, annoying remarks that made her burn with fury. One such remark particularly irritated her.

“So, Jedi can’t form attachments, right? Do they swear an oath of celibacy?” he asked, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. The question made something in her stomach plummet and shed blushed against her will. Her species blushed by the darkening of the stripes of their lekku and montrals. She really hoped he didn’t know the details of her species because hers was an obscene shade of dark blue. “I’m curious,” he said, feigning innocence.

“Not… explicitly, but it’s implied in the rule of no attachment. Attachment leads to jealousy, anger, hatred and the dark side,” answered Ahsoka. She hoped the dig about the dark side would distract him.

“Huh, literally no attachment,” said Ares, completely nonchalant, which only made Ahsoka blush harder.

“Can we stop talking about this?” Ahsoka asked, through gritted teeth. “This is making me uncomfortable.”

“Sore subject?” Ares asked and then he looked at her. “You do look a little unwell. But come on, even you must admit that’s a stupid rule. How can you not form attachments… emotional ones, at least, if not the _unspeakable_ sort?”

“Why do boys only ever have one thing on their mind?” asked Ahsoka.

“I’m sure it’s on the mind of most girls as well,” said Ares. “They’re just less upfront about it. I am, at least, honest.”

“Thousands of years and generations of Jedi have not formed attachments, so that proves that it is possible, and I intend to follow that rule as well,” answered Ahsoka.

Ares smirked in a way as if he knew something she didn’t. It annoyed her. “Well, more power to you… if you can, that is. I suspect at least a few of them might have strayed a little from your treasured code.”

Ahsoka glared at him for the insult he had given to her order. At least, she thought it was an insult. “And on that thrilling moral discussion, we come to the Library,” she said and brought him to the Library, where he showed a deep interest. He claimed to have a thirst for knowledge and made a point to introduce himself to the Librarian. Ahsoka watched with crossed arms as he became the charming aristocrat who kissed hands and won over old women with charismatic remarks.

“You done?” she asked when he came back to her side.

“Rule Number One, always make friends with the librarian,” said Ares.

“Rule Number One of what? How to embarrass yourself in front of your new co-workers?” said Ahsoka.

Ares chuckled with amusement, until his eye caught something in the Library: a bust of Count Dooku as a Jedi. For the first time in the hour that she had known him, Ares’ features turned dark and he approached the stone carving. Ahsoka patiently followed him, keeping a small distance from him for privacy with the statue.

“Why is this still here?” asked Ares.

Ahsoka came closer. “He was an important member of the order at one point. Madam Jocasta always spoke fondly about him before the war. I don’t know why it’s still here, though. Perhaps as a warning of those who fall to the darkness.”

“The artist has given a poor representation. He looks nothing like that,” he said.

Ahsoka looked at the bust. It sure looked like the Count Dooku she’d seen on holograms and posters. The strong face with erudite eyes and proud, individualistic marks were all there in the sculpture, but she decided not to contradict the boy. Perhaps it was the uncanny likeness that the son had to the father that made Ares recoil. Ahsoka’s eyes found the golden prosthetic on Ares’ hand. She found herself wanting to give him something. “We’ll bring him to justice, Ares. I promise,” she said. She felt his intense, strange gaze fall on her. “The Jedi won’t allow him to remain at large for long.”

“Let’s hope,” muttered Ares. He shrugged off the darkened mood as if he shrugged off a coat. He outstretched his arm. “After you, hostess,” he said, warmly.

Some time and a few more moments of bickering later, they arrived where they started. “Here’s the boy’s dormitories. I trust you’ll find your way from here,” said Ahsoka.

“See what I mean? My theory is proving correct by the day. They’ve segregated the boy’s and girl’s dormitories. They expect you to break that rule… they expect you to fall into temptation,” Ares smirked.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and looked away. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re hardly a temptation.”

“No?” He asked with mock-offence. “You don’t find me attractive? Tempting?”

She regarded him up and down. Over her dead body would she admit that he was indeed handsome. His sharp cheek bones and his brown eyes were pretty. His head of icy white hair made him look older than he was, which, surprisingly, made him even more attractive. He had muscle and height. He even smelt nice: a musky, smoky, masculine scent, though that was probably just the pheromones in his hair. _Human hair was infuriating_ , thought Ahsoka privately. “No, I don’t,” she finally answered, lying, and knowing she was lying. “I find you ridiculous and arrogant and in way over your head,” not a lie.

“That’s a pity. I happen to find you very attractive,” he said, smirking, then turned around and left to his dorm. “Good night, Ahsoka,” his voice bounced around the walls.

She stood in place for a while. She had not expected that. Needless to say, she spent the whole night tossing and turning in bed, plagued by thoughts of the dark son.

[][][]

Darth Sidious had just received his daily report from the Jedi Council. Against his strong recommendations, they had granted asylum to Count Dooku’s son. They argued that this was an internal Jedi matter and that the boy would be a ward of the Jedi Order. He had no choice but to heed the Council’s wisdom.

He contacted his apprentice. “Lord Tyrannus, unforeseen developments have occurred.”

“My lord?” The hooded figure asked, confused.

“It seems that the boy has come to Coruscant. He has joined the Jedi in efforts to destroy you,” said Sidious.

Even beneath his hood, Dooku looked stunned. This was news to him. “I… I must confess that I am surprised by this behaviour. I have always taught him to despise the Jedi Order. He has never exhibited any love for them.”

“You appear to have failed,” said Sidious. “You have created an ally for our enemies.”

“I doubt it, master,” said Dooku. “The boy is too in tuned with the dark side to remain an ally for long.”

“What does he know of our plans?” asked Sidious.

“Nothing,” said Dooku, quickly. “I told him nothing. He’s a child. His training isn’t even complete.”

“Good. Whilst his presence does not impact my plans, his disobedience and treachery are… distasteful,” Sidious force gripped Dooku’s throat through the hologram. The count struggled and gasped, helplessly. “His wilful individualism and quick alliance with the Order displease me,” he said.

“I am at your bidding, master,” Dooku said, once free, on his knees. He bowed to his master.

“What about the girl, Lord Tyrannus?” asked Sidious.

“She is utterly loyal to me. To us. She will not disrupt our plans, master, I swear it,” said Dooku.

“Make her choose between you or the boy: her father and her brother. See where her loyalties truly lie,” said Sidious.

“At once, my lord,” said Dooku, bowing deeply. 

**I hope you enjoyed. Please COMMENT what you thought and leave kudos.**


	2. A Bad First Day

#  **Chapter 2 – A Bad First Day**

General Grievous liked to think that he ran a very tight ship. There wasn’t a single droid out of place and no one to question him. So, when a shuttle arrived on his prized warship, _The Malevolence,_ carrying a teenage girl with a message from Count Dooku, he knew that his regime would be disturbed. 

The cyborg’s beady yellow eyes assessed the girl. Her sharp, erudite brown eyes stared back at him, observing him too. There was a coldness to her, and her emotions seemed detached from her. She carried a blaster on her hip, which Grievous considered humorous and not much of a weapon. All her clothes were black like a widow’s, except for an over-sized navy-blue coat with gold trimmings emblazoned with the Confederate insignia that had once belonged to a now dead admiral. It still fashioned with it the blaster holes that had killed the man, though it had none of his blood or medals anymore. The pin signifying the rank of a Commander was attached instead.

“So… what is so important that Count Dooku sends his daughter to deliver a message?” Grievous growled in a raspy cough.

The girl said nothing. Instead, she took out a hologram projector and activated it. The form of Count Dooku stood tall and proud in her palm. “Greetings, General. I believe you’ve met my daughter, Pallas of Serenno.” As always, the Count spoke in a regal drawl.

“I have,” said Grievous. “To what do I owe the pleasure of her _visit_?” Grievous liked it best when the Count didn’t interfere in his affairs.

“It is my desire that she learns how to be a general. So, I have sent her to the very best in the army. You will teach her everything you know. Take it as a compliment, General,” said Count Dooku.

The fury flew into in Grievous’ eyes like a pack of dogs before his raspy reply barked back. “I’m not a babysitter for your spawn, Count! I have an army to lead and a war to fight and many, many Jedi to slaughter!” he roared.

“Excellent. All these things you shall teach my daughter. I did not take you for a… ‘babysitter’, as you put it. I would not trust anyone else with this, general. Do not disappoint me… for your sake,” said Dooku. He turned to face his daughter. “And you, do not fail me like your foolish brother has.”

“I’ll make you proud, father,” she spoke, with an equal menace in her voice. The hologram vanished.

Insulted and furious, Grievous loomed over the girl. He was significantly taller than her and had been built to inspire fear even in the bravest of Jedi. She would be lying if she said that she didn’t feel fear of the cyborg general.

“So, papa’s little girl,” said Grievous in his unhealthy voice. “I suppose you should call me your Master.” He laughed, somewhat drunk on the silly thought of having his own apprentice to wield and mould. _Like a Jedi._

The girl took a deep breath, composing her emotions and words. “With all due respect, General, you are to teach me military strategy for a short period of time. I will address you by your military honours and nothing more and I expect the same respect to be returned.”

“Now, now, insolence will not do in my ranks,” Grievous rasped. “Let that be your first lesson! Show me disrespect and something unfortunate will happen to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, curtly.

“Good,” he said. “Follow me.” He guided her to the bridge of _The Malevolence,_ from where he led his beloved ship. “What’s this I hear of a traitor in the family?” he asked, whilst on route. 

“My twin brother has decided to fight with the Jedi. My father’s intelligence reports that he’s been made a captain of the Republic Army,” she said, without emotion. She need not have said another word because Grievous’ furious ramblings continued the conversation for her.

“Gah! Repulsive traitor. We’ll hunt him down with the rest of those Jedi scum! He’ll die by my lightsabre or my canons. I’ll make sure of it!” Grievous vowed.

“My father would prefer evidence, so I would advise a lightsabre, rather than the oblivion of a cannon, if you do meet him,” she said.

A droid appeared before the General and his new pupil. “General, we are tracking three Republic cruisers. What should we do?”

“Jam their transmissions,” Grievous immediately ordered. “Start the ion cannons! Let’s demonstrate to our newest commander the effect of our new super weapon.”

“Roger, roger!”

A collision of battle droids shouting orders at each other to charge up the weapon began. The effect was so powerful that Pallas could feel the ion cannons charging in the soles of her boots even when standing on the bridge of the massive ship.

“Fire!” Grievous ordered and the cannons launched. A ring of electricity fired out towards the Republic cruisers, sending them into chaos.

“Their shields are down!” said a droid.

“Fire all canons!” The Republic cruisers were easy prey to the firepower without their shields. Grievous laughed manically. “And that’s how it’s done, commander!”

“Most impressive, General. However, I do hope that I am able to learn from you what to do when your opponents have the high ground and you have no ion cannons,” Pallas countered with a cold, unimpressed voice. The general rumbled with frustration. He hated having his superiors or their spawn onboard his ship, monitoring his actions.

It was a while later that a pilot droid informed them that there was no signal from the escape pod hunters that they sent out after the destruction of the fleet. Grievous had his pilots look for a signal and found a faint one. Desperate to make sure that his prized weapon remained a secret, Grievous ordered the ion cannon to be fired up again.

“There will be time to learn strategy later, commander. For now, we shall destroy all our enemies with ease,” Grievous said to his pupil, whilst the cannons were charging.

“Cannons are fully charged,” the battle droid informed.

“Fire!”

A small spec fired up its engines in the distance and started dodging debris, trying to get away from the oncoming electro-magnetic field. It was a small ship, trying to make a quick escape. Pallas watched it with interest. The pilot of that ship was very skilful. The electro-magnetic field was gaining quickly on it, but the skilled pilot guided his ship out and jumped into hyperspace. They were gone now.

Grievous roared. “Now the Republic will learn of our ion cannon!” His anger was a sight to be seen.

“Perhaps that is a good thing, General. Does that not mean that you can leave this wasteland of a system and start destroying things of significance to the Republic? The power of your weapon seems wasted on these puny cruisers,” Pallas offered.

Grievous glared at her. “I must report this development to Count Dooku.” The clucking noise of his feet clanked out of the command centre and off the bridge.

[][][]

A battle droid showed Pallas her new quarters. They were functional, though she doubted she would be spending significant amount of time in them. Being one step behind Grievous would be her life for the next three months and she dreaded it. The general was poor company and there was not another living, sentient, friendly-ish creature within 10 parsecs of space.

She took out a commlink and pressed the digits. A Zygerrian and a human boy appeared on the hologram pad. She breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing their faces. “Pallas?” said the Zygerrian.

“Hey, Pompeii. Hello, Lux,” she said, her voice suddenly warmer. Her shields and emotions could come back now.

“Well this is a historic date. Look who finally decided to call us. Her Highness herself. To what do we owe this pleasure, princess?” said Pompeii, mockingly.

“Where are you?” said Lux Bonterri with a worried tone. 

“On board General Grievous’ cruiser. I’m to be his commander and student for the next three months,” she said.

“Nepotism is an amazing thing,” said Pompeii, rolling his eyes. “Sounds like your cadet training at the Academy is over.”

Pallas briefly thought about her student career at Raxulon’s Academy; she had spent so little time in the school she was formally enrolled in that she couldn’t even remember a single teacher’s name. “Eh,” she shrugged. “Never been that great a cadet.”

“Is Ares there too? Wasn’t he supposed to take that commission?” asked Lux.

Pallas closed her eyes, finally allowing the pain to prod its way through. “That’s why I called. I need to tell you both something. My brother has betrayed the Confederate cause. He’s joined the Republic and is fighting for them now.”

“What?!” said Pompeii, outraged and confused. Due to his species’ history, he was the most patriotic of their group of friends, which was an accomplishment when your friends were the children of the leader and founder of their cause. “But that’s impossible! He’s… he’s the son of the Head of State! How could anyone allow this? How is this possible?” Pallas remained patient as her friend raged on. “He was our friend!”

“Not anymore. He’s made his bed and now has to lie in it,” said Pallas, the ice in her voice was piercing.

“You… you two were inseparable. He couldn’t have done this. This is worse than if he’d died,” said Lux, then a thought entered his head and he looked at the girl who was keeping her pain in a hard cage. “Damn, I’m sorry, Pallas. First the Admiral and now this… and all within the same month. You doing ok?”

“I’m fine,” she said, quickly.

“That never means you’re fine,” said Pompeii, bemoaning. She remained silent.

“Pallas listen to me,” said Lux. “Your husband’s death was _not_ your fault, and neither is Ares’… choices.”

“I know that.” She paused for a moment before speaking again. “There’s something that you two need to do for me.”

“What’s that?” asked Pompeii.

“Spread the word to everyone you know that Ares has betrayed the cause and is to be shot on sight if he ever dares return home. I want him to be known as a traitor,” Pallas’ anger was oddly absent in her statement. She was numb. Her two friends looked for something to latch onto but found nothing. There was only cold hardness. A difficult choice had been made.

“Of course,” said Pompeii, determination flaring in his eyes. The other boy seemed hesitant.

“What if Ares is spying? What if your father has sent him to spy on the Republic? Couldn’t that explain it?” asked Bonterri. They all had too many fond memories of the traitor to truly believe that he could betray them.

“Would my father give me direct orders to kill him when given the opportunity, if that was the case? He would have told me if Ares was a spy. I know him better than anyone,” she said, and a cold menacing shiver ran down the boys’ backs. It was like speaking to the cold count.

“Of course,” said Lux, concerned. “Goodnight, Pal.”

“Good luck…commander,” said Pompeii, proudly.

The hologram disappeared and she was left completely alone. Pallas let her limbs slump and she fell into the bed, her body exhausted, and slept dreams that were plagued with nightmares of her brother.

[][][]

Her wrist commlink buzzed and a droid’s high-pitched voice spoke to her. “Commander, we are approaching the medical station. General Grievous is requesting your presence on the bridge.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” she replied, groggily. The one thing she hated about space travel was not being able to see what time of day it was, or even the complete lack of day. She had no idea how long she had been asleep.

When she got to the bridge, Grievous was ordering around the droids to their battle stations. “We are under attack!” He informed her.

“Incoming bombers,” the pilot droid informed them. “It looks like their target is the bridge.”

“How many?” asked Pallas.

“A small squadron, sir. With one fighter escort.”

“Send out all our fighters!” said Grievous. “Foolish, Republic scum. A ship this size will never be destroyed.”

“But it can be disabled if the bridge is destroyed, General,” warned Pallas. “And the ion cannon can sustain damage. Nothing is indestructible, general.”

“Cut the chatter, girl. You think you know everything? I’ll teach you a lesson!” shouted Grievous.

“Looking forward to your starting teaching me lessons, general, but perhaps you could think about destroying that medical station and dealing with those bombers, for our sake,” Pallas argued back.

“Send out our fighters! Prepare the ion cannon!” Grievous ordered his pilots. “Target that medical station.”

“Our cannon is still charging from the previous blast,” informed the droid.

“What did you fire at, if not the medical station?” asked Pallas, confused.

“The evacuation transport departing from the medical station,” informed the droid.

“You wasted firepower on about a dozen sick clones, when an entire facility could have already been destroyed,” said the girl’s disappointed voice. “I thought my father manufactured you to be a cold-blooded killer, general.”

Grievous punched the droid’s head clean off its body in his roaring frustration. “Sit here, commander. Want to be a cold-blooded killer? You can operate the ion cannon then,” said Grievous.

“With pleasure, sir,” she said and pushed off the droid’s body from the seat. The control panel was simple enough to understand.

“What’s the damage report of those bombers?” Grievous asked.

“A quarter of them have been shot down,” reported another droid.

“See, commander? A squadron that small will never be able to impact our ship now. They’re doomed. Concentrate all firepower on those bombers. I want them vaporised,” Grievous instructed his droids and received a round of ‘roger, rogers’. “Is that cannon ready to fire?”

“In three… two… one, and ready,” said Pallas.

“Fire!” Grievous commanded.

 _I hope Ares is not in that squadron_ , she thought just as she punched the button to fire. However, even as she pressed it, the ship collapsed in on itself, groaning with its massive weight and howling with the flames. The droids tumbled around both on the bridge and everywhere else on the ship. The bombers had hit the cannon.

“Damage report!” Grievous shrieked. 

“Both primary weapons have been disabled. Our hyperdrive has sustained heavy damage,” reported the droid. Grievous roared. _Maybe if he didn’t roar so much, we wouldn’t be in this mess,_ thought Pallas, doing her best to regain control of the weapon, which was a futile effort. The controls were damaged.

“Sir, there’s three Republic cruisers coming out of hyperspace!” said another droid.

“General, our forward engines are shutting down!” Another panicked droid informed them.

“Impossible!” Grievous yelled, aghast.

“They’re here to finish the job, general,” said Pallas. “Luckily for us, their cannons will not be able to sustain much significant damage to a ship this size. Use our size to buy time to fix the hyperdrive and get out of here. We can hunt down clones and Jedi another day.”

“You are not in charge of this ship, Commander!” Grievous roared. “Do as she says, pilot. Make sure to protect our engines from their cannon fire.”

“See? You’re warming up to me already, general,” said Pallas.

“Shut up!” Grievous cut her off. He contacted Dooku, who appeared as a blue hologram. “My lord, our ion cannons are destroyed. Our hyperdrive is damaged. The Republic fleet is blasting us down.”

“General Grievous, I have arranged a trap that will give you an advantage over the Jedi,” said Dooku.

Annoyed by the count having to bail him out from the comforts of Serenno, Grievous rebuked. “I assure you, Count. That is unnecessary.”

“Do not compound your failure by letting our prized warship to fall.” Dooku was furious with his best general. Pallas could tell even if his voice did not change from his usual cold drawl. The cyborg general was about to get his behind served to him on a plate. That was a show she wanted to witness.

“My lord, they will never capture me or this ship,” was Grievous’ vengeful and empty promise.

Dooku ignored him. “Heading towards you is a very important galactic senator. With her as your hostage, they will call off their attack.”

“As you wish, my lord,” said Grievous. The hologram of the count vanished.

“We’re scanning a ship off our bow, sir!” A droid informed Grievous.

“So soon?” Pallas was impressed by the speed. Her father must have predicted Grievous’ failure against the Republic ahead of time. His informants were very swift.

“Good. Our hostage has arrived,” Grievous said. “Activate the tractor beam. Let’s pull her in.”

“The Republic cruisers have halted their attack,” said Pallas.

“Jedi are so predictable. Get the repair team up here. Continue working on the hyperdrive. I’m going down to the main hangar. You,” he pointed to Pallas. “Stay here. You’re in control of the bridge whilst I’m entertaining our new guest.”

“Yes, sir,” she answered. Her heart thumped fast. It wasn’t real command, but it was close. The rush of adrenaline zinged in her blood.

The repair team rushed up to the bridge and began immediate work on the hyperdrive. “Uh… commander?” one of the engineers drew her attention to them. “The damage to the hyperdrive was not as bad as we first thought. We should be able to get under way again shortly.”

“Excellent. I’ll inform the general,” she said. It was just then that the alarm went off in the very hangar that their senator was drawn into. “What in the blazes is he thinking?” Pallas asked, pressing her commlink. “General, what happened? Why are the alarms going off in hangar 12?”

“The senator has escaped. She blew up her ship. Sound the alarm. We have stowaways on board,” Grievous barked back. “I’m going searching for her.”

“Is that wise, general?” asked Pallas.

“Stop questioning my orders. Is the hyperdrive fixed?!” screamed Grievous.

“They’re working on it. The damage wasn’t as bad as we thought it was. We should be on our way shortly,” said Pallas.

“Sir? Ma’am?” A confused droid tapped Pallas on the shoulder. “We’ve intercepted an unauthorized communication coming from within the ship.”

“What did it say?” Pallas asked.

“Well… we don’t know. We didn’t catch it in time.”

“Surely this ship has records of all its communications, pilot,” asked Pallas.

“It was on a private setting,” said the droid.

“Monitor all internal communications,” said Pallas. “This is not the lesson in military leadership that I’d hoped for,” she muttered to herself. She contacted the good general. “General, the droids intercepted an unauthorised internal communication. We don’t know what was said, but I think it’s fair to say that the intruders want to disable the hyperdrive.”

“I’m on my way!” Grievous’ growl sounded from the commlink. “And jam those internal transmissions!”

Pallas turned to the officer. “I want reinforcements on this bridge now.”

“Yes, sir,” said the droid.

A few super-battle droids and droidekas arrived shortly and stood guard.

“The hyperdrive is almost fixed,” a droid informed her shortly after.

“Excellent. How much longer?” asked Pallas.

The question remained unanswered because the door opened and Pallas stood facing the intruders – the Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker and Senator Padme Amidala. _Could this day get any worse?_ she thought. While the Jedi Knight was taking care of the extra reinforcements that she had called for, which looked significantly easier than it should have been, Pallas looked around for an escape plan. There was a trash chute under the commander’s station that was large enough for her to fit through. She reached for her blaster.

“And… who are you supposed to be?” asked Anakin Skywalker, now having disposed of all her troops.

She didn’t have time for snarky comebacks and fired her blaster. Out of instinct, Skywalker moved his blade to deflect but the shot never came his way. It hit the power converter on the control panel, the most combustible part of the machinery, which immediately blew into a burning explosion with fire and smoke spilling everywhere.

“Padme!” Skywalker jumped out of the way to shield the Senator. Pallas opened the trash shoot and jumped in.

The journey to the bowels of the ship was a long, dark tunnel that seemed to have no end in sight. Her stomach lurched into her throat from both the journey and the smell. She spilled into one of the lower hangers of the ship.

“Never again,” she said, lifting herself up. 

This ship was doomed. Grievous let their prized warship get taken over by Jedi. She didn’t even have the faintest idea of how they had snuck onboard without using any of the hangers. If there was one Jedi onboard, there would likely be more and, for all the General’s bloodlust, Grievous would not fair well when out-numbered. Now was the time to depart. She found the main hangar and the shuttle that she had arrived in.

“Commander?” said one of the battle droids she had arrived with.

“Power the engines. We’re leaving,” she said. She should probably contact the general. There were few beings more distasteful to her, but it was the army and a code of conduct was in place that she couldn’t break in her new, tenuous position as commander. “General Grievous, where are you?” she spoke to the commlink.

“I’m pursuing the Jedi. They’re getting away on their fighter. Get that ship out of here!” Grievous coughed back.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir. The Jedi took over the control panel. The ship is theirs. We need to leave!” The reply was a resounding roar from the General. She boarded the ship with a few droids. “Let’s go to friendly space, pilot.”

“Where?” asked the droid.

“Anywhere!” she said. The shuttle began its ascension. She found her transmitter and contacted her father. “Father… the ship is doomed. The Jedi have taken control of it.”

There was fury in the eyes of the man. “Where is the general?”

“He… was more concerned with chasing two Jedi that got on board the ship to rescue the senator than to lead the ship.” As she said this, _The Twilight_ whizzed past them with vulture droids and Grievous in hot pursuit of it. “I have visual contact from my shuttle. He is currently pursuing their ship on his fighter and has completely abandoned _The Malevolence_.”

“I see,” said the Count, the two simple words dripping in disappointment.

“He’s… unhinged, Father. You’ve placed the army in the hands of a cyborg with uncontrollable rage, which I can understand is useful for a warrior and Jedi-killer, but perhaps not for an armada,” said Pallas.

“Thank you, daughter, but let me elect my own generals. I am transferring you the co-ordinates of our rendezvous point. Take your shuttle there and we will discuss the mess that has occurred here,” said Dooku before his hologram vanished.

“Commander, preparing to jump to hyperspace in three… two…one,” said the pilot. It was fortunate that Pallas did not have to see the Separatists’ largest and most spectacular warship crash on the moon. _What a tremendous loss for the Separatist Alliance_ , she thought when she heard of its fate. She vowed to herself to never repeat Grievous’ mistake of short-sighted blood-lust and suffer a loss like that.

[][][]

Arriving to Serenno seemed surreal after the events on _The Malevolence_. Pallas marched through the doors of the Royal Palace, their father’s preferred residence, only to be met with the emptiness that was her mother.

There was a chime and then a voice came from all sides of the room. The voice was metallic and cold, even if the words that were spoken were meant to be soft and comforting.

“How fares the war, daughter?” asked the disembodied voice.

“As good as wars go,” said Pallas, dismissively. “I heard Father wanted to talk to me.”

Chime. “He’s in the Throne Room, daughter.”

“Thank you,” said Pallas, grateful to be out of that _thing’s_ company. It was not her mother, never was and never would be, no matter how much she was told to treat it as such.

The wife of Count Dooku had been an incredible droid engineer. As Pallas had been told, it was her intelligence and individualism that had gained the cold count’s interest. However, her physical body had proved to be unsustainable. In her last years, she had become crippled and frail. Childbirth of twins had not been kind to her. So, she had developed a computer to be able to replicate her consciousness even after her body stopped functioning. It watched over all the residences of the Count as an operational system, haunting their inhabitants as a replica of an almost forgotten woman.

To the ordinary orphan, this creation would be a blessing, a dream – to have their mother with them even after her death. To Pallas, her mother’s magnum opus was a curse. It wasn’t really her mother, but a program thinking and making everyone else think it was her mother. She abhorred it. It kept her loss alive and fresh and forbade healing of grief. _The dead deserved rest._

“You sent for me, Father?” she asked, coming into her father’s Throne Room.

“Yes, while Grievous gets redeployed I want to teach you an important lesson, child,” said the count. He was paying her only half his attention. The other half was occupied with holograms of his plans for the Separatist war effort. “Come here,” he beckoned.

Pallas took the steps up to his desk. “What lesson is that?” she asked.

“Look over here,” Dooku pointed to the holograms. “What do you see here?”

“It looks like the co-ordinates of all our military operations in the Outer and Mid Rim,” said Pallas.

“You see here the war that we are fighting. The war that you are going to be fighting very soon,” said the count. “Your disrespect for General Grievous has been noted.”

“Disrespect?!” Pallas balked. “How was it disrespect? I addressed him by his titles, and I set boundaries when he disrespected me. I questioned his decisions and orders because they were stupid. That was not disrespect.”

“You think addressing a general by his title is respect? You think setting boundaries will make him want to teach you?” The questions were so patronising. “Until you have learnt enough about war and leadership, you are to listen and obey, like a good student. You can question the intelligence of strategies when you’re in command.”

“If I listened and obeyed, I would be at the mercy of Jedi right now,” replied Pallas.

“Yes, your escape from Skywalker was most ingenious. In that case, you did well. Do not engage an enemy in his arena of expertise. It was your actions prior to that encounter than concern me. Correct them or I’ll begin regretting sending you to the battlefields,” said Dooku.

“What is your point? Grievous was wrong. He lost _The Malevolence_ – our greatest ship. He’s unhinged. He throws away everything just for a single droplet of Jedi blood,” said Pallas.

“Are you so arrogant to assume that you will not lose your fair share of battles in the future? Only a fool learns from his own mistakes. Learn from Grievous’. And I need not tell you, there is much to learn from one’s enemies,” Dooku placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“I never took you for the sympathetic type, father,” said Pallas, looking at the hand foreign to her.

“I’m not. Grievous will get his punishment for losing _The Malevolence_ but make no mistake that it will be a punishment you yourself will face when you lose your first battle,” said the count. Pallas remained silent, beaten in this match. “You will not be his pupil forever. I am very well-aware of his shortcomings. I will not have Grievous lead my armies forever. A droid - a cyborg – is inferior. One day, I will give you, my prized child, the command of the Separatist forces.”

Pallas’ eyes widened and she dropped to her knees in a bow, as if before a master. “Thank you, Father.”

“As long as you have an older brother, you cannot be my true heir. Though it grieves me, you must end him,” spoke Dooku. He took his daughter’s shoulders in his hands and made her rise to look him right in the eye. In his mind, there could be no greater gift than being his successor. He wanted his children to scramble to death for it.

“True heir?” She crooked an eyebrow. “But I’m not a force-user,” she said.

“Prove yourself to be an excellent general and you won’t have to be,” said Dooku. “I have complete faith in you, daughter. Don’t make me regret it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to COMMENT!


	3. Captain Shiny

# Chapter 3 – Captain Shiny

Serving aboard a Republic cruiser turned out to be significantly less exciting than Ares had hoped it would be. Kenobi and Skywalker were patrolling the sectors with their fleets, scouting for Grievous, but there was nothing. No signs of the cyborg or his droid armies since _The Malevolence_.

Ahsoka had been sent to assist Master Luminara Unduli in the transfer of the notorious war criminal, Nute Gunray, to prison, which was… disappointing. He was growing fond of annoying the Togruta. She was so easy to wind up and he delighted in her frustrations and blue blushes. _She became so pretty when she blushed_ , he often caught himself musing, _not that she wasn’t pretty before._

Alas, Ares was not without a fair share of things to do. The clones were proving to be his greatest challenge. Loyalty meant everything to these men. Now to have a self-acknowledged ex-Separatist traitor as one of their captains seemed counterintuitive to them. It was not so much what these men said – they had been bred to obey the hierarchy as good as droids did – but rather the kinds of looks that were received and the meanings beneath their words. They distrusted him. They whispered amongst themselves.

Using the force, Ares could tune into private conversations a few meters away in a mess hall or the barracks.

“Heard that you boys have a new captain… ex-Separatists. Word is he’s Count Dooku’s son,” were the words of a clone from the 501st, which the 212th regularly shared quarters and mess halls with.

 _“_ Shut it, Rumour! As long as kid’s good in a fight, it’s all the same to me,” were the words of another clone.

“Yeah, but what if he’s a spy?”

“Ex-Seppie after all.”

“The Jedi know what they’re doing.”

Beneath the masculine gallantry of these soldiers, Ares could feel their fear of the stranger, the unknown and unpredictable element. Ares couldn’t help but remember a time when he too felt scared of the stranger. 

_She had been terrifying to him when he first met her. Firstly, she was so much older than him – a whole decade his senior. Secondly, she looked so… different: her skin had a paleness that bordered on blue, her eyes were fuelled with so much hatred. He had never met anyone like her before. Thirdly, his father immediately bestowed upon her privileges that she had no rights to. Apparently, she had been a talented Jedi padawan, left behind by the Jedi. Her fury and hatred for the Order was so thick and stifling that Ares felt the Force chocking him sometimes when he was in her presence. Count Dooku had announced that Assajj Ventress would be his new ‘ward’ and ‘apprentice’. An orphan, his father had clarified. A tool, a spare, a weapon against the Jedi._

_But she was just so… strange. She moved with the sleekness of a fox and her dual blades cut like searing claws. For the longest time, he was mesmerized by both intrigue and fear of her._

_“What are you staring at?” she asked him, glaringly, when she caught him watching her in the training courtyard of the Serenno residence._

_“Nothing,” he said, contemptuously. She was a foreigner in the house and a disturbance for his family. A bastard brought in. It felt like a betrayal, like his father had replaced his sister with a force-user he could train. Although Pallas didn’t seem to have a reaction to this apparent substitution, Ares, ever the emotional child, felt that betrayal for her. He remembered how much he had wanted Assajj Ventress gone._

_“I do not like the way you look at me, boy,” she said._

_“Maybe I don’t like the way you look,” he said, so venomously he had no idea how he had managed to muster the words. They just came out of his mouth, his mind barely aware of them, but once they were said there was nothing he could do to take them back._

_The two red lightsabres hummed in her fists and she launched at him, eager to teach him a well-deserved lesson. They locked in a duel, but she had been so much older, stronger, and more trained than him that it was hardly a contest. He was on his back in moments and his lightsabre was knocked out of his hand._

_“Spoilt, little, rich boys don’t live long when they disrespect me,” she hissed at him, her red blade pointed at his throat. “Say something like that again and I won’t care whose son you are,” she promised him._

_He sat up on his elbows and looked at the glaring blade. Fear was her power, both inspiring it and, inevitably, experiencing it. He could feel it coursing through her like an electric voltage. He decided to do something incredibly stupid and reckless then. “Do I anger you?” he said, voice calm and smooth. Bait. “Does that anger turn to hate?” he continued on, focusing on his discarded lightsabre through the Force. “Does the hatred give you strength?”_

_She drew the blade ever to closer, making a small cut on his left collarbone. He yelped out in pain. A blade whizzed past Ventress with lightning speed, grazing her arm with a burning cut. It was her turn to hiss out in pain. He stood back up, lightsabre in hand, and taking up a Form II stance against her._

_“I see you’re a slow learner, boy,” she hissed._

_“Oh no,” he said, almost laughingly. “I’ve learnt my lesson. Care to go another round?”_

_Through their shared talent for pain and pursuit of the dark side, the bridge between stranger and local had been met._

So, what united Ares of Serenno and the troops of the 212th Attack Battalion? He thought about that deeply and managed to come up with a suitable answer: the value of brute, physical strength. It didn’t take long for the boy to find himself locked in a stalemate arm-wrestling match with Waxer, one of the ARC troopers of the 212th. Boil, his friend, was just one of the troops cheering them on. The attention of the entire mess hall was diverted to this sparring match.

“Remember, captain, no tricks,” said Waxer, struggling with toppling the new captain.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Ares, turning a little red from the pressure he was putting in. Back home, arm-wrestling was one the few way to entertain his Zygerrian friends, a muscular and formidable race.

“Come on Waxer!” one of the troops shouted.

“Get him, Waxer,” another one shouted.

“That’s not fair. You have moral support,” said Ares.

“Yes well, that seems… fitting,” replied Waxer. “You’re not going to win this match, Captain Shiny.”

“Captain Shiny?” Asked Ares, confused.

“Aye, it’s what we clones call the troops that have never been to battle because their armour is shiny,” said Waxer.

“I’ll take it as my nickname then,” said Ares, before squeezing his opponent’s hand and, once Waxer yelped out in pain, forced the hand down. Ares won.

“Argh! You sneaky little—” Waxer started but then saw the look in Commander Cody’s eyes. The Commander of the 212th had just entered the mess hall for his own meal. Waxer cleared his throat. “Good job, captain.” The crowd cleared and Ares looked at Cody.

“Looks like you made quite the show,” said the commander. He placed his tray of food on the table to sit opposite Ares. “My advice, kid, is if you want to be a leader amongst these men, don’t partake in their recreational activities. It’s difficult to follow orders from someone you have seen on your level.”

“Maybe for a regular captain, but it’s difficult to become a leader among men when you’re the ex-seppie,” said Ares.

“Drinking and wrestling with them is not how you do that, no matter who you are, kid,” said Cody, starting to eat his food. “Fighting with them on a battlefield or saving them from the enemy is how you gain their respect and loyalty. It takes time and patience. You can’t force these things.”

“Fight with them where? We’re in the middle of nowhere for hell knows how long doing absolutely nothing,” said Ares.

“We’re at war; we’ll have a battle soon enough,” said Cody. “You’ll be missing this boredom.” Even as he finished saying that, the commlinks of both Cody and Ares buzzed. The generals were calling for them to be on the command bridge. “I rest my case,” said the commander.

[][][]

“You called for us, generals?” Cody saluted once he and Ares were on the bridge. Rex was there as well.

“Yes,” Kenobi said. “We’ve intercepted a message from General Grievous.”

“We’re decrypting the audio, sir,” said one of the bridge crew.

“The clone planet of Kamino will be a dangerous target…” the dry voice of Ventress and her sinister form said.

“Just make sure you hold up your half of the mission… we must stop the production of new clones if we are to win this war!” Grievous’ voice was raspier and more broken than Ares had anticipated it to be. He looked like an overgrown skeleton. Perhaps that was the idea.

“Kamino,” said Anakin.

“They’re going to attack our home planet,” said Rex.

“The Separatists are taking quite the chance even considering this,” noted Kenobi.

“With all due respect, General. If someone comes to our home, they better be carrying a big blaster,” said Rex.

“I concur with Captain Rex, sir. This is personal for us clones,” added Cody.

“We’ll make sure Kamino is secure. Tell your troopers in the 501st and 212th they’re going home,” Anakin told his captain.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Rex and Cody saluted and left.

“Thoughts?” Skywalker turned to Ares, challenging the boy to speak out.

“They’ll want the DNA of the clones,” Ares said. “A cloning facility can be rebuilt, but not without the DNA. And it will be difficult to find a new, perfect template.”

“That’s a good point,” Kenobi said, placing a hand on Anakin’s shoulder to remind him to ease off. It seemed that his former padawan and new ward were not much better at ease than when they first met. Obi-Wan shouldn’t have been surprised. The two young men had tempestuous personalities. “We should fortify those rooms especially,” said Kenobi.

“That’s assuming that the droids get past our fleet to begin with,” Anakin said, glaring at the captain. “Which they won’t.”

“Really? You don’t think Grievous is counting on you blockading the planet?” Ares replied, glaring equally fiercely.

“That’s enough. Both of you,” said Kenobi, as usual, being the negotiator. “Save it for Grievous and the droids! We need to plan our strategy.”

[][][]

The Separatist fleet was ready. Grievous was speaking with his co-commander on the hologram with Pallas standing by his side and patiently watching the exchange.

“All is ready, general,” said Ventress. “We will attack Tipoca City first. I have the exact location of both DNA room and the clone trooper barracks.”

“Both shall be annihilated under my hand!” Grievous declared.

“Our hands, general. Count Dooku assigned us both this task,” Ventress corrected. Pallas rolled her eyes. It bored her when people sucked up to her father. An affliction she had to witness too often.

“But of course, assassin. I look forward to meeting you,” said Grievous. The hologram disappeared.

“Well, she seemed nice,” said Pallas, sarcastically. Grievous ignored his student’s comment.

“When we arrive to Kamino, Ventress and I will be down below on the cloning facilities. You will have command of the fleet while we destroy their factories. Your orders will be to save as many of our ships as possible. This invasion is a theft, not an occupation,” Grievous said, no doubt hoping to get a reaction from his student.

“As you wish, General,” said Pallas.

They launched into hyperspace and came to Kamino.

“Attack formation Echo-3! Status!” Grievous shouted at his pilots.

“Deflector shields raised!”

“Destroyers in position!”

“Forward cannons ready!”

“Landing craft prepared!”

“All ships are in position, general,” said Pallas from the pilot droid’s computer. 

“Commence attack!” Grievous ordered and their cruisers began firing, pressing their attack.

The Republic’s attack began, firing away at the transport ship. The debris fell to the watery surfaces of the planet.

Grievous laughed. “Just as we have planned,” he said. Grievous made for the exit of the bridge. “Commander, you have control of the fleet now! I’m going down to our transportation.”

“Yes, general,” said Pallas, taking position as the first in command. _Finally,_ she thought.

[][][]

From the command centre on Tipoca City, Obi-Wan, Shaak Ti, Cody and Ares were watching the movements of the fleet from the computer screens.

“The fleet is not as large as I expected,” said Shaak Ti. “Begin the air strike.”

The fighters were launched with Skywalker, the natural pilot, leading the assault. Taking out the Separatist ships turned out to be very easy for their fighters. The falling debris could be seen out of their window.

“Grievous appears to be sacrificing his transports in favour of protecting his command ship,” said Shaak Ti.

“Something is not right,” said Kenobi, staring down the screen.

Skywalker’s transmission reached them. “I’m gonna press the attack, Master,” he said.

“No, Anakin. Wait. It’s too easy. Not even Grievous would attack so recklessly,” said Kenobi.

“Master, the battle’s up here in space, not down there,” said Skywalker.

“You don’t think they could have gotten past the blockade, do you?” voiced Ares, practically baiting Skywalker.

“Captain, this is hardly the moment for you,” said Skywalker with gritted, angry teeth.

Kenobi sent Ares a look to shut up. “The debris from the destroyed Separatist ships is the key, Anakin.”

“What are you thinking?” Shaak Ti asked.

“I think I’d like to go for a swim,” Kenobi replied. “Ares, you stay here while I investigate. Defend the outpost in case I find something unpleasant,” he said as he was running out to get onto a water-speeder. 

It didn’t take long for Kenobi to report back that the debris was indeed hiding ships for an underwater assault, although it was too late to prepare for that. Squid-like, tentacled boarding ships launched out from the sea and penetrated the Kaminoan buildings, digging deep and squirting out thousands of droids.

“You wanted a fight, kid,” said Cody, grabbing his gun and helmet.

“With pleasure, Commander,” said Ares, igniting the red blade of his father’s lightsabre and running for the nearest ship, which was on a watery hangar not far from the command centre.

Aquadroids were pouring out and firing their red blasters everywhere. Ares took a position on the front line to defend the clones and started deflecting blaster fire from them, hitting as many droids as possible. There were cadets and maintenance crew running in the rear lines providing extra ammo for the soldiers. Deciding that it was taking too long, Ares rushed forward and began to slice down the droids in swift fashion. That and the combined firing of the clones destroyed that ship.

“On to the next one!” Ares roared to the platoon of clones.

The droids just kept coming. They were easy to shoot, but they were exhausting. They just kept coming, and coming, and coming. On disabling their fifth ship, they moved even deeper into the city. Ares spotted Kenobi and Skywalker fighting the droids. Realizing they could get the droids from behind; Ares gave an order.

“Fry them from the back, boys!” He was surprised that the troops obeyed his orders so easily. Clones were as easy to command as droids.

“Ares? I’m glad to see you,” said Kenobi.

“Likewise, general,” said Ares.

“That wasn’t enough droids to take the whole city. They’re trying to distract us,” said Kenobi and then turned to Skywalker. “Go protect the DNA chamber. Ares, you get rid of the rest of those droids. I’ll deal with Grievous.”

“Got it,” said Skywalker, running off in the direction of the DNA chamber.

“You heard him, men! Let’s move,” Ares shouted, leading his men to battle.

The commlink buzzed. “The droids are spread thin! We must press our offensive now!” came Shaak Ti’s voice.

“General, where are they?” asked Ares.

“They’ve been pushed back to the main hangar!” answered Shaak Ti.

“Come on boys! You heard the general!” Ares shouted.

“Yes, sir!” They chorused in one voice and ran with him. There were about three dozen soldiers. The main hangar had the last few ships attached to its roofs, with the last remaining platoon of droids teeming out of the mouths. Ares started with slashing through the droids with cover fire coming from the clones. It wasn’t long before the droids were all but destroyed.

“Look! It’s the general!” One of the troopers shouted and Ares turned to the platform below. The two red blades of Ventress and single blue of Skywalker duelling were unmistakable. Ares watched Skywalker lose his footing and began gripping for dear life to the edge of the platform. The raging sea below was ready to swallow him. Ventress was about to make the killing blow.

Ares didn’t know why he disliked Skywalker as much as he did. Simply, the pounding in his head wouldn’t allow him to form any positive opinion him, but it was now his duty to help him. He force-jumped to quickly cover the distance, slamming his lightsabre at Ventress’ blade, thus blocking her from her deadly intentions. He stood over Skywalker, as the Knight scrambled for slippery leverage.

“Miss me, Assajj?” Ares asked with a growl.

“Look who decided to join our party, Skywalker? It’s Dooku’s spoilt little brat,” said Ventress, smiling menacingly. “Your father has trusted me with slaughtering you once I’m done with this mission. I think I’ll kill two birds with one stone on this one.”

 _Anger costs duels,_ he thought remembering his old training _, let it fuel, but don’t let it drive_.

“I find it difficult to believe he would trust you, _his_ _pity project_ , with anything, _orphan_ ,” said Ares, choosing his emphasised words carefully. That infuriated her and she unleashed her anger in her swift, penetrative attacks, becoming sloppier and careless in her moves. Her sabres battered at him from both sides and he deflected them with ease for she had become careless with fury.

“I am Sith!” She screeched at him, her rage bulging through her veins.

“Such presumptions,” Ares mocked and grinned. He knew her lack of worth, lack of belonging, to be her crippling weakness. He had often seen his father use it to tame the wild beast inside of her. “You’re nothing more than a weak, unloved orphan. My father’s pity project. A discarded practise doll for me.” He could hear Skywalker behind him pushing himself up from the precipice.

“Traitor!” She screamed in her fury as their lightsabres crackled together and the rain beat down on them. The water ran down their faces and clothes. Thunder broke out over their heads. “You filthy scum!” she shrieked at him as she struck and hammered her blades, but his composure remained firm and her strikes came to nothing now.

Skywalker’s blue blade joined the fray of swords and pressed down on her left flank. Together, they managed to dislodge one of her blades from her hands. “Get the DNA from her!” yelled Skywalker.

Ares summoned the capsule off her belt with the force and gripped it tight. He heard footsteps and the clicking of guns behind him and knew that his clones had arrived. “Surrender, Assajj! There’s nowhere for you to run!” yelled Ares.

“You should know that I don’t surrender,” said Ventress, looking at her beeping wrist, pushing Skywalker off and then force jumped up. A ship darted overhead and she landed on it. Summoning her fallen hilt, she closed the hatch, thus completing her escape. The troopers fired at her, but to no avail. The ship was gone.

“Do you have the DNA?” asked Skywalker, breathing deeply to calm himself of his failure to defeat Ventress.

“Yes,” said Ares, throwing the capsule to the general.

“Good,” said Anakin, not looking at the young captain. “Hopefully, Obi-Wan has not had our luck with Grievous.”

 _Your luck,_ Ares thought spitefully. He had expected more from the Chosen One.

[][][]

“Welcome back,” said Pallas to Grievous and Ventress as they came up to the command bridge. “Kill any Jedi? Steal any DNA? Complete any of the missions you were supposed to?”

Not in the mood for being taunted by another one of Dooku’s spawn, Ventress ignited her blade and brought it close to the commander’s throat. “I just duelled your vile brother,” she hissed.

Pallas could feel its heat on her skin. _Fear is a state of mind. Fear is a chemical._ “I don’t see his severed head with you,” said Pallas. Whilst the two women were having their spar, Grievous ordered his pilots to jump to hyperspace and retreat.

Ventress turned her lightsabre off and spoke with venom. “Skywalker was with him. I couldn’t get my chance.”

“It’s good that you have an excuse, Ventress. Count Dooku has been checking in every few hours to check on our progress. If I were you, I wouldn’t mention to him that my brother was at this battle. He tends to be very angry whenever Ares is mentioned nowadays. I believe you’ll have enough of his wrath when you tell him you don’t have the DNA,” said Pallas.

“I need three boarding ships. There’s something that I must do. Dooku assigned me another mission immediately after the invasion: to rescue the Viceroy. So, you two will need to report of our progress yourselves,” said Ventress, getting off the bridge.

“Commander, what was the status of the space battle!” Grievous barked.

“I protected as many ships as I could, given the suicidal position that you left me in, general,” reported Pallas. “Five whole frigates and this command ship get to fight another battle,” she said. “And three republic cruisers don’t.”

[][][]

“Ares,” the voice of Kenobi gained Ares’ attention. The youth had been resting in his quarters by catching up on some reading: a book about the history Republican politics. It would do him good to get familiar with this particular system of tyranny if one was to fight for it now.

“Yes, general?” Ares asked, putting his book down and getting off the bed.

“Well done today. The troops told me how you took the lead and Anakin, though he may not show it, is grateful to you for saving his life. Congratulations on your first battle,” said Kenobi.

He considered whether he should tell the peacekeeper about his thoughts of the bloodbath. “It was… thrilling. I loved the battle. The speed, the thrill, the adrenaline, the danger. Exhausting, but addictive,” said Ares.

“Perhaps, it’s fortunate that you’re not a Jedi,” replied Kenobi.

“I’m no peacekeeper,” said Ares. He loved violence and fighting too much to be a peacekeeper, but then he remembered Anakin Skywalker hanging on the slippery platform and the clones he was charged with protecting. “But the presence of a conscience and desire for preservation of life are not features exclusive to Jedi Knights… strange as that may seem.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Kenobi. “However, despite your success, I thought you would consider my training your lightsabre skills. You mentioned that Dooku didn’t complete your training when you stood before the Council. Allow me to finish it. It would be a waste for you to remain perpetually incomplete.”

Ares crooked an eyebrow. “I thought the order forbade it. Training a man uncertain of his loyalties would seem… counterproductive.”

“Well, I’m going to take a leaf out of Anakin’s book and say: they don’t need to know,” said Kenobi, smiling through his well-trimmed beard.

“Why?” he asked. “Why would you train me?” 

“Because I have a very strong feeling that you’re not who everyone thinks you are. And if there’s one thing my old master taught me, it’s to trust my instincts and the Force,” said Kenobi. “We’ll start tomorrow first thing in the morning. In the hangar. Don’t be late.”

“Thank you, general,” Ares gave a respectful salute. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
> Praise and/or constructive criticism is welcome. Let me know what you thought.


	4. Biological Warfare

#  **Chapter 4 – Biological Warfare**

“What do you mean ‘he got away’?” asked Ares as he pursued Kenobi down the corridor.

“I mean that the pirates let him get away,” said Kenobi. “Hondo and his gang had been greedy. Had they not tried to compound their prize with Jedi ransoms, they would have had a million credits by now.”

“This is exactly why I should have come with you, but ‘no Ares, stay here. We have this under control. We can arrange a simple ransom transfer with pirates’,” Ares said, furious.

“Very well,” Kenobi said, patiently. “Next time pirates have your father in custody, we’ll bring you along. Now, get down to the hanger. It’s time for some practise.”

Obi-Wan and Ares practised at dawn on every permissible day. He was a very good teacher: patient, kind and yet strict and disciplined when necessary. Kenobi expected a great deal from his new student but relayed those expectations without threats, which was refreshing. Ares’ previous teacher favoured the belittling tactic when mistakes were made.

“Good, good, now block,” said Obi-Wan, going on the offensive. “Left, right, left, left, right, right,” he instructed with Ares following him. “Now, right, left, right,” on the last instance, contrary to what he said, he attacked left, hoping to throw off Ares, but the boy had expected it and blocked the sneak attack. “Not bad, captain,” said Kenobi.

“I’m no youngling. I require no advise on which side to block,” replied Ares, beginning to press his own attack on the Jedi.

“So, it would seem,” said Kenobi. “You employ Form II well. You’re a fencer, like your father.”

“His sabre makes it easy to do that,” replied Ares.

“However, you would do well to not confront Dooku with his own style,” reminded Kenobi, easily blocking the attacks made by the boy. “He’s the master of your preferred form. He’ll easily win in his area of expertise.” Kenobi’s defence was impenetrable. “Might I suggest that you practise Form III. You will be able to defend yourself with it more effectively, if you ever do meet Dooku in combat again.”

“I don’t want to defend against him. I’ll kill him,” muttered Ares, growing his fury. Kenobi took his advantage then and managed to disarm the boy. The lightsabre flew in the air and Kenobi caught it with ease.

“Your emotions have distracted you. If you ever do face your father again, be sure to not let your feelings for him manipulate you,” said Kenobi. He looked at the peculiar curved lightsabre. “Would you like to reconstruct your old lightsabre? While I’m sure that you’re attached to this one, it was not built for you and your needs. It was built for Dooku’s.”

“My father and his armies will be fought with his own weapon,” said Ares, taking the sabre from the general. “I didn’t construct my previous sabre, either. It had been a gift, not a creation. My father bled the crystal for me. I’ll adjust to this one as well. Besides, red is my colour.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” said Kenobi, getting ready for another sparring match when a shuttle landed in the hangar. Both general and captain turned off their lightsabres. Out of the shuttle came Skywalker with his padawan by his side. “Anakin? What are you doing here?” asked Obi-Wan.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Skywalker stopped him and wagged his finger. “What do I see here? My master disobeying direct orders from the Jedi Council? Training the traitor?”

Kenobi rolled his eyes and was about to make a comeback when Ares beat him to it. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, General Skywalker. He’s not training me. Much to the contrary. It is I who is training Master Kenobi in the ways of the dark side. He’ll be my apprentice and we’ll rule the galaxy together soon. It’s part of all my evil ploy to betray… everyone.” Kenobi smirked. Anakin glared. Ahsoka couldn’t stop her snicker. 

“Yes, indeed. I’m on my path to becoming a Sith Lord,” Kenobi concurred, amused that the tension had been diffused by the absurd notion. “Now, what are you doing here?”

“We have orders to go to Naboo. They believe that the droids are planning an invasion… again,” said Anakin.

While the generals reminisced about the last invasion of Naboo, Ares came up to Ahsoka. Somehow, she managed to look both annoyed and pleased to see him. “Heard you faced Ventress on your boring little escort mission,” he said.

“She got away. Along with that greasy slimeball Gunray,” the Togruta girl said with disgust. The topic of her defeat was a sensitive one.

“Well then,” said Ares, grinning. “Sounds like you need the practise.” He ignited his red lightsabre. She was extremely happy to fight the irritating boy and turned on her own blade, placing it in her unique reverse grip.

A few nearby clones stopped to watch the two, mumbling that this was going to be good. Some shouted for Ahsoka to show him who was boss, in an almost brotherly fashion. Ares rolled his eyes at this, but then noticed a few troops he’d fought with on Kamino who gave him an encouraging cheer. The smell of gambling was in the air. They parried, trading blows and blocks, the red and green sparking together. She moved agilely like an acrobat, while he swiped and slashed like a fencer.

When she slammed her blade hard and thus pushed him back a few steps, she smirked and said, “Looks like I’m not the only one needing training.” There were a few celebratory cheers from her clones.

“Ha. Ha,” he said, dryly, annoyed by the automatic moral support her popularity with the troops earned her. “You haven’t won yet.” He adopted more aggressive blows and knocked her off her feet. However, she couldn’t stand to see his victorious smirk and, as her lithe body granted her it’s advantages, she side-stepped to slide between his legs coming up behind him. She brought her lightsabre to his throat from behind.

“Looks like I win now,” she smirked, but the move had its flaws. Namely, she was so close to him now that she could smell his cologne and aftershave. She tried to not focus on that, but the scent was intoxicating. 

“Good job. Nice move,” he said and Ahsoka sighed. He seemed to be even more annoying as a gracious loser than a sour one would have been.

Above the cheering and clapping of the clones, the loudest amongst them was Skywalker. Both commander and captain looked at the thrilled Jedi Knight. “Atta girl, Ahsoka. You show him how it’s done!” cheered Skywalker. Obi-Wan stood next to Anakin, shaking his head, embarrassed by his former padawan’s immaturity.

“You know, you can let me go now. I yielded,” said Ares, a smirk in his voice. “Unless, of course, I’m starting to grow on you, commander.” She released him very quickly and turned off her lightsabre. He immediately felt the lack of warmth on his back and suppressed a shiver.

“Keep dreaming,” said Ahsoka. “Never going to happen, Captain Shiny. I heard the clones gave you your own nickname.”

Ares rolled his eyes. “Aside from its derogative intentions, Shiny also means pretty, so I’ll take it as a compliment, even if it came from a bunch of big, burly men.” He looked at her. “I know their nickname for you. Wanna hear? I wrestled a pilot for it.”

She crooked the white marking above her eye and looked at him with a sarcastic expression. “You wrestled someone to learn a nickname?” she asked.

Ares shrugged. “Of course. What else would I be doing?” He grinned. “It’s great. You’ll love it.” She nodded her head to hear it. “Motherbird.”

She looked unimpressed and crossed her arms. “Because I’m a girl?”

“No. It is because you’re usually walking the skies with Skywalker and commandeering identical incubated eggs,” he corrected. “Isn’t that just great? Do you think clones are specifically engineered to be great name givers?”

Ahsoka didn’t grace that with an answer and instead waved for him to follow her to the gunship where their generals were already waiting for them.

[][][]

The gunship touched down at Theed Palace carrying Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka and Ares. Anakin immediately jumped out and fired accusative questions at Captain Typho about the whereabouts of the Senator. His feelings of concern and fear were palpable. _That’s not the Jedi way,_ thought Ares, feeling the emotions through the force.

“Senator Padme can be very difficult to dissuade once she has made up her mind,” supplied C-3PO.

“Good point. I know what you mean,” agreed Skywalker, immediately cooling down. _Oh, do you, Skywalker?_ thought Ares.

“This is Pepi Bow,” said Captain Typho, gesturing to a Gungan behind him. “She was the last person to see Senator Amidala.”

“Go with the Gungan. See what you can find,” Skywalker ordered his padawan, who nodded.

“You too, Ares. There may be trouble. Do NOT engage if there is,” added Kenobi.

“Yes, general,” said Ares.

“We’ll take messa’s beastie,” said the Gungan, leading them out of the palace. The journey to the Senator’s last known location was quicker than anticipated, but the plains of Naboo granted them time and so Ares thought this would be a good time to ask.

“Hey, Ahsoka, can I ask you a question?” Ares said in his most amicable voice.

“If you must,” she replied.

“What’s with Skywalker and the Senator? I thought it was forbidden for Jedi to form attachments,” he said.

Ahsoka was fiercely defensive of her master. “He hasn’t formed an attachment! They’re just… friends. They’ve known each other since they were children. You’re allowed to have friends as a Jedi, so long as they don’t cloud your judgement or your duty,” she said.

“Ok but are you gonna tell me Skywalker’s… friendship… is not clouding his judgement right now?” asked Ares.

Ahsoka huffed, unyielding. “Can we just focus on the mission?”

“Nice deflection. I get it, you can’t answer. You don’t know,” replied Ares, hoping her instinct to prove him wrong would supply him with answers. Ahsoka glared at him but remained silent. She saw his bait and wasn’t going to fall for it.

“This is the place,” declared Pepi.

“Good job,” said Ahsoka, getting off the beast to take a look around.

“There’s no sign of the Senator and their tracks end here,” said Ares, inspecting the mud. “The lab must be underground—” A sudden body slam from Ahsoka interrupted his speech and they toppled off their feet and into a bush. “What are you doing?!” He barked from the ground, with Ahsoka scrambling off him quickly before he could make any inappropriate remarks.

“There’s a scope,” she explained, quickly. “Pepi, don’t move!” The Gungan was balancing precariously on a rod in the ground.

“A little warning next time would be appreciated,” he said. The small girl packed a hell of a punch. He cracked his shoulder back into its socket.

“Noted,” she said, paying him little mind and instead force lifting Pepi off the scope.

Meanwhile, Ares sat up and clicked his commlink. “General Kenobi, we’ve found the lab. We must be right on top of it,” said Ares.

“Did you find the Senator?” Came Skywalker’s voice instead of Kenobi’s. Ares could sense the general’s fear even all the way from the swamp.

“Negative, general. Their tracks end here; she’s probably inside. The whole place is wired with scopes and pressure sensors,” replied Ares.

“There’s no way to get in without being detected,” Ahsoka told Aries’s wrist. “But we’d be more than happy to— “

“Do NOT engage!” were Kenobi’s first words. “We need you to create a distraction on the south entrance, which will seal off the bomb area. I’m sending you the co-ordinates now. Rex and the clones will have your backs. Anakin and I are on our way as well. We’ll come through the hatches.”

“Yes, general,” said Ares. “We have our orders.”

“Got a grenade?” she asked. 

“Just the one. Make it count, commander,” he said, giving her the explosive. “I think I can hear the gunships. Throw it.” She did and a massive explosion blew a hole wide open at the entrance. She jumped in, lightsabre blazing with him following her. The droids inside were surprised to see them before the pair cut them down. Clones arrived hot on their heels. Droid reinforcements ran in, called by the alarms that the explosion caused.

“Nice of you to join us, Captain Rex,” said Ares, deflecting blaster fire. “Droids in the back corridor!”

Rex turned around just in time as a droideka came rolling in. The clone captain shot it with his pistols before it had the chance to raise its shields.

“We need to keep these droids distracted while Masters Skywalker and Kenobi rescue the Senator!” Ahsoka yelled to the clones, whilst slicing down a battle droid.

“Yes, sir!” They shouted back, blasting everything mechanic.

Super battle droids and rollers were pouring in and in numbers greater than their little group could cope with. “I can’t hold them. Fall back!” Ahsoka yelled as she and Ares deflected blaster fire, trying to get the angle just right. Then the ceiling caved in on the droids and Kenobi, their knight in white shining armour, stood over the rocks and crumbled circuitry.

“Need some help?” he said, smugly.

“So good to see you, Master Kenobi,” breathed Ahsoka.

“What happened to coming in through the hatches?” asked Ares, coughing from the blaster fire smoke.

“We secured the lab. Hopefully, Anakin has rescued the Senator by now. We need to find the bomb room now,” said Kenobi. “It should be this way!” Their party ran down the corridor blasting any droids in their warpath.

“Ares, you and the boys come with me, we need to get to the bomb room. Ahsoka, you and Rex keep the droid’s occupied,” said Kenobi.

“Fine by me!” Yelled Ahsoka, as her comrades ran to the bomb room.

They found it. A whole room stacked top to bottom in tiny spherical bombs. “Looks like the bomb room,” said a clone.

“Yes, and luckily they appear inactive,” said Kenobi, seconds before all of them lit up on their centre and started a countdown of ten minutes. “I spoke too soon! Get these bombs deactivated!” He ordered.

The clones put down their blasters and took out pincers, each taking a bomb. Ares followed suit. “Any of you boys know which wire to cut?” he asked.

“We’re bomb specialists,” said one of the troops. “It looks like a standard C-type bomb. Cut the red wire.” He threw Ares a spare pair of pincers. “If you got questions, captain, ask first, act second or we all get blown sky-high.”

“Good to know Kenobi came prepared,” mumbled Ares, deactivating his first bomb and quickly moving onto the next on.

Meanwhile, Kenobi was shouting at Anakin through his commlink. “Anakin, I’m guessing you didn’t capture the doctor?”

“I’m working on it! Do you have the bombs?” Anakin’s response yelled back.

“I’m working on it. Doctor Vindi has remotely activated the bombs. They’re counting down!”

“That’s great!”

“And on top of that, one of them seems to be missing!” Kenobi yelled, pointing to one place on the wall that was missing a bomb.

“It’s down here somewhere. I’ll find it!” Skywalker was out.

“I’m going out to help him! You boys finish with the bombs as soon as possible!” Kenobi ordered and ran out.

[][][]

The bomb squad was making excellent progress. It was down to the last few ones when Ares’ commlink buzzed. “Ares, send a bomb disposer to finish the last bomb. It’s with Senator Amidala!” said Ahsoka.

“Where are they?” asked Ares

“The plant room!” said Ahsoka.

“I’ll be there,” said Ares, grabbing the pincers and running out of the bomb room. The plant room had the Senator, the Gungan Jar Jar, Ahsoka and her men from the 501st. 

“I thought I told you to send the bomb squad?” Ahsoka said, unimpressed by his appearance. Ares ignored her and took the bomb from the Senator. He quickly unbuckled the compartment of the bomb and sliced the red wire.

“A ‘thank you’ will suffice next time,” said Ares, showing her the useless bomb and his pincers. She rolled her eyes and clicked her commlink to call her master.

“Master? The bombs have been deactivated. Did you find Vindi?” asked Ahsoka. 

“Deactivated as well. Have you seen Padme?” said Skywalker.

Ahsoka glared at her commlink. “She’s right next to me… I’m ok too. Thanks for asking.” She caught Ares’ look telling her ‘ _what did I tell you?’_ She returned a shake of the head as if to say that this wasn’t the time. Ares returned his gaze to the bomb and suddenly noticed something.

“Wait! Where’s the vial container with the virus?!” He showed the Senator and padawan.

“It… must have been stolen by a droid,” said the Senator. “Sound the alarm!” Rex ran to the nearest control panel and ordered his men to secure the bomb room and recheck the vial compartments.

“We need to find the vial,” said Ahsoka.

“I’ll get the troops,” agreed Ares and the squad ran out of the plant room to the bomb levels. They didn’t manage to get far because an eruption that shook the whole lab rocked them all off their knees. “What was that?”

“The virus is loose,” said Rex, checking the scanner. “We need to get to the safe room.”

“We need to lock down the whole lab so that none of it escapes,” Ahsoka corrected.

“You and I can do that on our way to the safe room,” reasoned Ares. “Let’s go! We have very little time!” The group followed the orders with both Ahsoka and Ares force shutting all the passages and hatches of the lab. The virus was pursuing them with its vile, rotten stench, like a vicious predator.

They could see the doors of the safe room that were beginning to close as the virus drew nearer. “Get in!” Ahsoka yelled to her men.

“The doors are closing!” One of the troops yelled. Ahsoka and Ares both concentrated on keeping the door open for the troops to jump in. “Hurry, you two!” The two force users ran up and barrelled inside, seconds before the doors jammed. Wisps of the virus’s grip touched the clamping walls.

“Ahsoka! What is going on down there?” Skywalker’s voice on the commlink shouted.

“The droids released the virus, but we managed to seal the entire lab,” said Ahsoka.

“And Padme?” asked Skywalker.

“Haven’t heard from her since the bomb,” said Ahsoka. The channel switched off as Skywalker no doubt searched for the Senator.

“There are still droids in the lab,” Ares mused. “They’ll be trying to get out, even if we sealed everything.”

“No, no, no!” A clone trooper yelled, slamming his angry fists at the computer screen. “Some of the virus got in here. We didn’t close the doors fast enough.”

“We may be dead men, but we could still stop those droids,” said Rex with resolve.

“Don’t worry. My master will find a cure for this virus. We’re not dead yet,” reasoned Ahsoka. Then her commlink buzzed.

“Is anyone out there? Can anyone hear—”

“Senator Amidala, we’re trapped in the safe room at the end of complex B,” Ahsoka replied.

“We’ll be right there…” she paused, fearful. “Are you contaminated?”

Ahsoka looked at two troopers coughing. “I’m afraid so.”

It didn’t take long for the Senator to arrive at their safe room, but the strain of the virus was beginning to be felt by the group. Troopers were coughing violently. Rex was beginning to sport a nauseous pale shade with ghastly veins stretching over his face. Ahsoka’s eye sockets were taking on a darker shade with every minute and Ares was noticing how his limbs were beginning to feel increasingly like they were laced with lead.

“We’re right outside your safety room,” Amidala’s voice came from Ahsoka’s commlink.

“Can you get the door open?” She asked.

It took a pause, a moment of regret at effectively speeding up the deaths of friends, but the doors unclenched and the foul virus seeped in. The air immediately became harder to breathe, as if the oxygen was dying with them.

“I’m so sorry,” the Senator told the group. Jar Jar was right behind her looking mournful.

“Don’t worry about us, senator. We still have a job to do,” said Ahsoka, feeling the dizzying effects of the plague.

“There aren’t very many droids left,” Senator informed. “We saw some heading toward the south entrance.”

“As long as we’re able, we’ll help you destroy those droids before they breach the compound,” said Ahsoka, as Rex handed her a gun and the representative one of his pistols.

“You take the north corridor, and we’ll take the south,” said Amidala.

“I’ll go with you, Senator,” Ares said. “Ahsoka you lead the clones, while I’ll make sure the blaster fire doesn’t hit their protective suits and they get infected.” They separated down the corridors.

Once they were in the corridors, hunting for the droids, Padme asked the young captain a question. “We… haven’t met, captain. General Skywalker mentioned you, though. Captain Ares, right?”

Ares found it fascinating that Skywalker shared military promotions so quickly with this senator. His theory was becoming more plausible with every passing moment. Ares had only been serving as a captain for a few months. He didn’t imagine that many senators enjoyed such a privilege from a Republican general. “Uh… yes, good things I hope,” he said. 

“Only the best,” replied the senator, lying but doing so politely, which Ares appreciated. Somehow, Ares doubted that Skywalker would be giving any favours in his discussions. “He said that you defected from the Separatists, quite bravely. Is that true?”

“My father left me little choice… I can hear them. They’re drilling the ceiling,” he said. He grasped the curved lightsabre hilt tightly. The red blade slashed through the first battle droid and the senator’s blaster silenced the second and third. Ares was moving slower than he usually did.

“I wanted to ask you,” said Padme as they continued down the corridors. “Before the war, many of the Separatist senators were part of the Republic and since the war I’ve been forbidden to contact any of them. Can you tell me… is Senator Bonterri alright?”

“Senator Bonterri? Of course, I know her. I’m close personal friends with her son, Lux. Or at least I was before the whole exile thing. I often visited their home. She’s a very powerful and respected speaker in the Separatist Parliament. Though, you would not share many ideologies anymore. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of a more starch admirer of Count Dooku’s ideals than Senator Mina Bonterri.”

“Yes, I’m aware. She was my mentor when I was a young politician on Naboo,” said Padme. “It was unfortunate that she doesn’t hold the same views as the Republic now.”

“Can you blame her? Her husband was violently gunned down by clones at the start of the war,” said Ares.

“Yes, that was unfortunate,” said Padme in a truly sad voice. “I’m afraid that the war demands from us all such tremendous costs.”

They came upon another squad of droids, one that was already being battled by Ahsoka and the clones. “Nice of you to join the party,” Ahsoka said, seeing the captain and politicians run to their aid.

“This section is clear,” he said, deflecting the fire.

Two droidekas came rolling in and Ahsoka leapt up onto one of them with the intention to penetrate them from the high ground.

“Messa help!” Jar Jar pulled out the pistol he had been given and fired, but the shot hit Ahsoka’s lightsabre and came back. The senator leapt onto him to cover him from the deflection, but Ares used the force to absorb the errant blue blast into his palm.

“Senator!” Ahsoka cried, now done with the droids. She ran up to her master’s friend. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. My suits fine, thanks to your captain,” Padme said, sweetly.

“My pleasure,” he said, but felt his legs weaken. The virus was becoming a bit much. He reached out to the wall to steady himself. “This is agony,” he grabbed his forehead. “Are all the droids disabled?”

“If your way was clear then I think that’s the last of them,” said Ahsoka, looking equally worse for wear. “We need to get a signal out to my master.”

“There’s a transmitter in the safety room where we came from,” said Ares.

“I’ll go get it. You should rest. Jar Jar, stay with them,” said the Senator.

“We should go to the main entrance. When my master does come, he’ll need to find us easily,” said Ahsoka.

“Good idea. I’ll meet you there,” said the Senator, running down the compound with her blaster in hand.

Once they got to their destination, Ares sat down against a wall and looked around their crew. Rex was still live, but they had significantly fewer troops and something told him it wasn’t because of the feeble droids. Ahsoka was now finding it difficult to respire - he could hear her heavy breaths. Surprisingly, she took a seat next to him. Rex and the last four remaining soldiers rested not far from them.

“Well, this is not how I imagined dying,” he said, morbid.

“We won’t die. We’ll make it through. My master will find us a cure,” said Ahsoka, full of resolve.

“What makes you so sure?” Ares asked. It seemed unlikely that anyone will be coming through for them.

“I know him. He’ll stop at nothing,” she said. “He’s very stubborn like that.”

Perhaps it was the delirium of the virus or the inescapable fatigue or most likely a dream, but she reached out and took hold of his hand. He was surprised by the touch. Their freezing fingers intertwined, and he wafted into a sleep that was almost death-like, clutching the padawan’s hand.

[][][]

When Ahsoka woke up, it was in a hospital bed on Coruscant. She vaguely remembered a drugged conversation with her master before being put on a medical ship and sent to a proper medical facility. He had gotten the antidote, like she knew he would. She sat up and an uneasy feeling of the Force rocked her back violently.

Carefully, she got back on her feet. _Something was wrong. There was someone here that shouldn’t be_. She could clearly sense it. Even almost dying to a deadly virus didn’t muddle that clarity. Putting on her boots and taking her lightsabre in hand, she wandered out of her treatment room, sensing her way through the hospital. It brough her to a corridor where one of the rooms had Ares’ name scribbled on the name tag. She could sense his force signature inside and another’s.

A hooded figure wearing a visitor’s garb was walking in. Ahsoka followed. The figure closed the shutters of the room and approached the bed. Ahsoka went in through the air ducts, her small size giving her agility and speed. She watched the exchange from the air vent.

The mysterious intruder traced a slim finger on Ares’ sleeping face, then planted a kiss on his cheek and took out a familiar red bladed lightsabre. “You did this to yourself, rich brat, with your foolish ideas. A pity, really. I really liked you… once,” the intruder whispered. Raising it above her head, the assassin tried to strike, but the blade was blocked by Ahsoka’s green sabre as she struck from above.

“I don’t think he’s too taken by you, Ventress,” Ahsoka said, putting as much venom in her words as she could muster.

“Skywalker’s pet! What are you doing here?” Ventress hissed, going on the offence. Ahsoka dodged and blocked well and took a stance over Ares’ unconscious form to best protect him from the assassin’s blows. She was able to hold her position as the lights of their sabres dashed and sliced against one another.

“I could ask you the same question,” Ahsoka replied.

“The traitor must die,” Ventress vowed. “He has angered my master and he will betray yours. Stand aside so I can do both of us a favour!”

“How considerate of you,” said Ahsoka, feigning sweetness. “Tell you what, if he betrays us, we’ll kill him for you, until then I’m afraid I’ll have to send you back to your master empty handed.”

“How sweet. The spoilt brat has found himself a little pet to protect him from the big bad witch,” she said and laughed.

“It’s nice that you’re so self-aware,” said Ahsoka, employing Ares’ cocky sense of humour. “Why doesn’t Dooku come here and do this dirt work himself? Some Sith Lord. Is he scared?” mocked Ashoka.

Ventress roared and launched a strong assault. Ahsoka braced for the attack, but it never came. Against all odds, Ventress was thrown against the wall. Ahsoka looked down. Under her, Ares had woken up and force pushed the assassin. The impact broke a wall and Ventress staggered into the neighbouring room, which housed a startled doctor and injured clone soldier.

“Whilst I always love it when ladies fight over me… literally over me…” he began, his voice was weak but never too battered for snarky remarks, “I’m afraid I don’t have the shape for it right now, commander.”

“Ares!” Ahsoka got down from the bed and checked on him. She had never seen him weaker – a side effect of the virus recovery. That was a problem for another time. There was still Ventress. Ahsoka took her lightsabre and watched the hole in the wall.

The commotion and wreckage attracted the attention of various doctors and nurses who called for security. Guard droids rushed in with their blasters and so did some clones who were off duty but had their blasters with them, so the assassin had no choice but to jump out of the window and into the depths of Coruscant’s dizzying metropolis.

Ahsoka was about to give chase when she heard the captain call out her name. “Ahsoka! Don’t do it! Let her go. She’s too strong right now,” Ares said, coughing with every breath.

“But—”

“She’s healthy and well-rested and you’re not,” he reasoned. “There will be another time for that.”

The padawan turned off her lightsabre – he was right. Doctors and nurses rushed in, checking on both captain and padawan. Ahsoka answered all questions about the intruder and refused the suggestion to return to her own room.

“How are you feeling?” She asked the boy. The residue of the blue shadow virus was still clinging to him. His pale face was lined with horrible black veins and his eye sockets were still dark, but he didn’t have that deathly, hopeless look in his eyes from the lab anymore. He was recovering, slowly.

“Alive,” he said, simply. “Barely.” He looked at her. She didn’t look that much better than him. He would never forget the plague riddled face he saw in the lab. “How did you know she’d be in here?”

“I sensed a disturbance in the force,” she replied. “Like someone who wasn’t supposed to be here.”

“Glad that the force is looking out for me. Through you, if not through me,” he said, sighing. “I have a feeling that’s the first of many attempts on my life that my father will orchestrate.”

“You reap what you sow,” replied Ahsoka. “Relax, your father is always trying to kill Jedi. He hasn’t been too successful yet… it was good of you to join us.”

Ares looked at her surprised. “Do my senses deceive me? Ahsoka Tano, commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, is congratulating me on my treachery? This is a day to be alive.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, swatting him playfully. “Get some rest now. I’ll be nearby.”

[][][]

When Ares woke up again, he was alone in a room with Skywalker, which was not the face he wanted to see. There was also clone trooper standing guard. He tried playing dead, but Skywalker saw him before he could get away with it.

“Hey, how do you feel?” asked Skywalker.

“Alright, I guess,” said Ares, sitting upright now that he couldn’t escape. “How long have I been out?”

“Long enough,” replied Skywalker.

“Where’s Ahsoka?” Ares asked. Was the assassination attempt a weird dream? No, he noticed the gaping hole in the wall that had been broken in by Ventress. It hadn’t been a dream.

“She’s resting. Stopping assassins is hard work on a recovering body,” replied Skywalker. “I… I wanted to apologise for my behaviour. Padme told me how you protected her suit. Thank you. The Senator is a very dear friend of mine.”

There it was again – Skywalker’s attachment to the Senator. There was something fishy there. Ares shook his head of his thoughts. If the general was offering an olive branch of peace, he would be wise to accept it. “My pleasure, General Skywalker. Your _friend_ is a delight. Glad she’s not dead.”

“I’ll let you get some rest, then,” Skywalker stood up. “Droidchuck here is watching over you, so no more assassins sneak in.” The clone stood to attention as the general mentioned him.

“Thank you, general,” Ares said, laying down his head.

“Get some rest, kid. You’re going to be back on duty soon enough,” said Skywalker, leaving the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please REVIEW! I would love to read what you thought about the chapter – good and bad. 
> 
> So, please REVIEW!


	5. The Cost of War

# Chapter 5 – The Cost of War

“You called me, general?” Pallas stood beside General Grievous. He was looking through holograms on the command bridge.

“I’ve received orders from Dooku to take my forces and defend our assets on Ryloth. It seems that the Republic has just broken through the blockade and the Techno Union is losing control the planet,” said Grievous.

“So, we’re taking our fleet to Ryloth?” asked Pallas.

“You will be,” said Grievous. “I found the scent of a Jedi that I will be tracking and whose lightsabre I will be adding to my collection.”

Pallas really wanted to roll her eyes but had made herself promise to do less of that – at least during her training period. Grievous’ obsession was not only going to be his own downfall, but the whole Confederacy’s. “But there’ll be Jedis on Ryloth! Good, powerful, important Jedis with very shiny trinkets,” she reasoned with him as she would reason with a toddler that saw a flashy, shiny thing. “Why can’t you hunt their lightsabres on Ryloth?”

“I’m due leave,” said Grievous, simply.

It was then that Pallas understood Grievous’ true motivation. It clicked. “You know that Ryloth is going to fall to the Republic, don’t you?” she said. “And I’ve noticed in my time with you that you hate defensive tactics, which is absurd because defence is so much easier than assault. This whole thing is a matter of preference, not duty.”

Grievous glared at her. “They’re poorly supplied, the natives are hostile, the blockade has been broken and that fool, Wat Tambor, is the commander in chief of all the Separatist forces. I’m not in the mood to lose because of that idiot. Not to mention there is nothing for me to gain on Ryloth,” said the general.

“So, you’re just going to disobey direct orders?” Pallas demanded, her limited previous respect for the general dwindling by the second.

“On the contrary, commander. As instructed, I’m sending my fleet under the command of my most trusted commander,” he said, coughing and cackling simultaneously. “Think of this as… a test to see what you’ve learnt in the time we’ve spent together.” There was a wicked gleam in his beady yellow eyes. “I’ve already transferred command of this fleet to you. Good luck, commander.” He rose and clucked his way off the bridge, sending his fleet and student into danger.

Pallas’ hand reached out to the commlink. It was her first instinct to report the disobedience to her father, but then she remembered what happened last time. Her father had reprimanded her for using her nepotism to solve her personal problems. _What will you do when daddy’s dead and you have no one to solve your problems, Pal?_ she asked herself. No one liked a tattletale. No… to prove her point, she needed to win the battle. She needed to win Ryloth for the Separatists.

“Commander, what are your orders?” the tactical droid by her side asked her.

“What are our resources?” she asked.

“Five fully operational frigates with 12 and a half squadrons of vulture droids. Approximately, 100,000 battle droids on each ship. We are equipped for space and terrain assault. Shields on all frigates are fully operational,” he reported.

“We’re in good shape then, at least. Get me in contact with Wat Tambor. We need to see what his damage is. Also, set a course for Ryloth and bring me every file we have on the planet and the invasion – I want to know what we’re up against,” she replied, taking the seat of the first in command. “I’ll spite that coughing cyborg with a victory.”

[][][]

When he was the son of Count Dooku, Ares had been put through a rigorous training program to become a commander. He had been scheduled to take up a commission as a commander of that rank mere weeks before his banishment. Rumour was that Grievous, the Commander in Chief of the Droid Army himself, was to be his general. His father had personally overseen his progress and hired the finest military instructors in the Confederacy. However, it had always been presumed that he would lead battle droids. Now, as Ares was doing his captain’s rounds, he marvelled how things had changed.

He had been issued his own company of clones: Mars’ Company. Yellow crested troops that were ready for anything their generals, commander and captains would order. Obedient to a fault. Bred for loyalty and orders. Ares struggled to remember a time he had felt so nervous.

It was not the clones themselves that tensed him. He had gotten over that ordeal during the Invasion of Kamino. What terrified him was that he was now responsible for 164 lives. _Lives_ , he thought to himself, _not tin cans_.

The boy shook his head. _What does it matter if they were lives or tins?_ The voice of his father echoed in his head in that haunting way that one’s parents imprint upon their children’s conscience. _They’re all cogs in a big machine. Built to be expendable in a war. Fodder for a cannon. If you lose them, they’ll ship you a replacement._

“Everything alright, sir?” asked a trooper called Longshot. Ares had stopped too long over him.

“I can sense pain there, trooper,” said Ares and pointed to the soldier’s shoulder.

“Just a scratch from a clanker, sir. The medic cleared me. I’ll be fine,” replied Longshot. _Damn_ , thought Ares, _why did they have to have names?_ He never gave his droids nicknames to their numbers, even the ones at home, but the Republic named its soldiers.

“Stick close to me when we’re out there, Longshot,” said Ares. “That’s an order.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” said Longshot.

Ares went down the barracks and continued to do the stomach-churning maths in his head. Mars’ Company was 144 troopers strong with 16 sergeants and 4 lieutenants. The lieutenants’ names were easy to remember: Deimo, Bruno, Phobo and Discord. The sergeants were trickier, but, if he thought hard enough, he could do it: Thrace, Dom, Claw, Scythe, Tyr, Boarhead, Nike, Bloodhound, Torch, Amaz, Spar, Heph, Roma, Bottleshot, Rooster and Bronzejar. It occurred to him that he could name all 144 troopers too, if he wanted to, but his rounds were done now.

“At ease,” he said. They were his men. He would lose 98 of them by the end of this invasion.

[][][]

“First trick will be getting our troops on the ground,” said Kenobi, walking to his gunship with Cody and Ares by his side. “We have our orders to take the city of Nabat as our landing zone.”

“It’s always nice to meet the natives,” said Ares, sarcastically.

During their descent to the surface, the general and his commanders began the briefing of the mission inside the gunship. “We need to remember why we’re here,” Kenobi started. “We came to aid the Twi’leks, not destroy their homes. Cody?”

The commander stepped forward. “That means we’ll be taking it back the hard way. Minimal destruction with blasters and droid poppers only. No rockets or detonators. Check your aim. Keep an eye out for the locals. Am I understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” The troops chorused together.

Ares’ ears pricked at one of the troopers mumbling: “If we’re here to free the tail-heads, the least they can do is get out of our way.” He was about to reprimand the chatter when his commlink started beeping and Mace Windu’s hologram appeared.

“We can’t risk landing the larger transports until you take out those guns,” he told Kenobi. The thick fire power could be heard even inside their air-tight gunship.

“Pull back,” Kenobi said, confident. “We’ll take care of it.” The transmission ended. “Who’s up for a challenge? We’re not getting any reinforcements until those canons are destroyed!” They landed not long after that into a forested area that proved to be inhospitable. Red blaster fire started raining on the clones. Cody led Ghost Company and Ares was defending his Mars Company and all of them were following Kenobi’s lead as he advanced the front lines.

“Take cover behind the trees, boys!” Ares yelled to his men.

“Looks like that bunker is going to be a problem, general,” Cody said.

“Leave the bunker to me. Bring in your troopers on my signal!” Kenobi commanded, running up close to the bunker with two troopers. “Let’s take them out,” he said, referring to the droid popper. They threw them and Kenobi assisted the grenade with a force lift.

“Ghost company, let’s move!” Cody commandeered his soldiers ahead now that the bunkers were disabled.

“Mars company! Onwards!” commanded Ares, as he shot and sliced the last few droids.

“The wall is secure, general. Are we moving on to the guns?” asked Ares, stepping over a droid carcass, with Cody in tow.

“We need to know what the droids have in store for us. Send your best men to scout ahead,” Kenobi said.

“Yes, sir,” said Cody. “Waxer! Boil! Come with me!”

“I guess we’re the best,” Waxer said, gloatingly, leaving. He, Boil, Wooley and Cody left the site.

[][][]

When Cody reported back, Ares contacted Mace Windu and they debriefed. “They’re in the courtyard here and here, but there’s a complication. They’ve taken the locals hostage and they’re using them as shields,” reported Cody.

“The Twi’lek prisoners will make this difficult but not impossible. I still have a good plan for taking out those guns,” said Kenobi, full of optimism.

Ares sensed a disturbance. “Wait! Don’t…” He felt his way through the force to make sure he was not wrong.

“Captain?” Kenobi asked, curious about the boy’s erratic action.

Ares grabbed Cody’s gun from him and fired above them. He hit his mark – a scouting droid fell from the ceiling of the building they were holding their meeting in. “We were being watched,” he said. “Thanks for the gun, commander. Sorry about the snatch.” He returned the weapon to its clone. 

The commander inspected the droid and fired a few more shots to make sure it couldn’t send any more transmissions. “That’s a reckon unit. Well, they know our position now, though not our plan. Nice shot, captain.”

“You won’t be staying there for very long anyway. Getting the villagers out of harm’s way is our first priority. I have faith in you, General Kenobi.” Windu’s hologram disappeared. _Yeah, faith and nothing else,_ thought Ares.

“Cody, Ares, we’ll go in with everything we have. Clear those hostages,” Kenobi ordered his two subordinates and was met with a round of “yes, sir!”

[][][]

“The men set, Cody? What is it?” Kenobi asked his marshal commander, who looked perplexed.

“Waxer and Boil are not responding. They never returned from scouting,” said Cody.

“That isn’t like them. They may have run into trouble,” said Kenobi.

“Sergeant use the high-powered transmitter. See if you can reach Waxer and Boil,” Cody ordered, and the trooper ran off.

“Let’s get the rest of the men moving. The others will catch up,” said Obi-Wan. “We don’t have much time. The droids know that we’re here.”

The 212th moved out through the deserted villages. There was no one in the empty houses, inhabitants or corpses. Ares kept his lightsabre on as they marched through the eerie places of war. _This was the true cost of war_ , he thought, _not the dismantled droids or slaughtered clones or epic lightsabre duels. It was the destruction of a civilisation, a people, a way of life._

A screech echoed through the empty villages. “What was that?” The boy asked his comrades and general. “That didn’t sound like a Twi’lek or a droid.” His answer came running towards him with gnashing teeth, impenetrable armour and famished, wild eyes. Ares responded, naturally, by piercing the creature’s brains with his lightsabre and his troops followed suit by trying to blast them, though the beast’s armour was tough.

“Stop firing!” Kenobi commanded his troops. Ares looked at the general. The Jedi Master was trying to tame them with the force. Their hunger had subsided, and they were all following him to a cavern.

“Once all those creatures are inside, fire on that bridge, men. On my mark,” ordered Ares, pointing at the structure and two troopers aimed their blasters at it. “Wait for it… wait… now!” The blue shots destroyed the structure and Kenobi leapt out of the rubble, unscathed. Cody handed him his lightsabre.

“There!” A soldier pointed to a bobbing sanitary entrance on the ground. The battalion aimed their blasters, but it was the helmets of Waxer and Boil who popped out, sheepish.

Cody was fuming. “Waxer! Boil! Where have you two slackers been!?”

“Sir, there is an explanation,” said Waxer.

“We got side-tracked,” supplied Boil. Both troops looked to their side as behind them a little, green Twi’lek girl’s head showed herself.

“Seriously?” Ares deadpanned at the two soldiers.

“I think I see what side-tracked you,” said Kenobi, much more amused by the situation than his young captain. He got down on his knees to speak with the girl.

“She led us here through the tunnels and knows her way around them pretty good sir,” Waxer told his three commanders.

“She said she can get us to the prisoners,” said Kenobi. “You two will come with me to free the prisoners. Cody, Ares, you and the rest of the battalion will create a distraction for the droids.”

Ares sighed. “All we ever are is a distraction for the general, Cody,” he said, smirking, as Obi-Wan, the girl and the two troopers descended into the tunnels.

“Quiet, Shiny,” said Cody. “Ghost Company, Mars Company, get into positions!” The commander handed Ares a pair of binoculars to spy out the general when he emerged, whilst he sorted through his men.

“There they are!” Ares hissed at his commander. “Attack!”

He ignited his lightsabre and charged at the nearest droid taking up a defensive position to protect his troops from blaster fire. The droids were starting up their photon canons. Ares signalled for the troops to hold their lines as he ran to the nearest cannon and took out the operator. He slammed his blade into the control panel and rendered the machine disabled. He continued to do that for the other cannons while Kenobi took out the tactical droid in charge of this base with the help of the locals, who savagely tore the droid apart like a wild animal.

Their sector was won, but this was just the taster.

[][][]

Mace Windu landed with ease now that they had the city Nabat under Republic control. The cruisers were unloading terrain assault equipment – walkers, AT-TE units, supplies, legions of troopers, everything. The real war was about to begin. “Great job getting rid of those cannons. Now we have a more difficult objective. We must take the capital and free this world.”

Just as he said that, a shadow fell upon the land. The generals and Ares looked up to see their doom. Five massive Separatist frigates crossed the sky, out of range for the Republic canons. It was taunting them, gloating of its size. It promised death and destruction.

Ares looked at the natives, who shivered and hid behind one another in fear of the looming shadow.

Mace glared at the massive ships and clicked his commlink. “Skywalker? Anything you want to report?” he asked.

“Master Skywalker is currently… occupied, Master Windu,” Ahsoka’s voice came out of Skywalker’s channel. Her communication sounded as if she was in mid-battle in space. There was blaster fire mixed in with her voice. “Five Separatist frigates have just outmanoeuvred us. We hadn’t counted on Separatist reinforcements to show up so quickly! Those are Grievous’ ships.”

“Stay safe, padawan,” Kenobi said to the commlink before Windu switched it off.

“Looks like they’re headed to the capital,” said Kenobi. “I’m afraid that your task has become much more difficult, old friend. That’s a lot of reinforcements.”

“I can handle Grievous,” said Windu, determined.

“There’s something… off. I can feel it,” said Ares, looking at the looming spaceships. “I don’t know what, but it’s… present.”

“Really? I don’t feel anything,” said Kenobi.

“Me neither,” agreed Mace. “I only sense the difficulty of the coming battles.”

“You’re Jedi,” Ares said, scowling. “Your senses are…” _Weak_ was the word he was looking for, but now didn’t seem like a good time. “Clouded,” he settled.

[][][]

Wat Tambor was not happy. “Dooku promised me Grievous,” his out-of-tune voice box boomed, as he adjusted the dials on his breathing suit. He was promised a fearsome General and was given a teenage girl.

“Yes, but Grievous didn’t promise you Grievous, my lord. He sent me in his stead,” replied Pallas simply, whilst scanning the maps of the Rylothian terrain. The Republic was advancing fast and they brought the proper equipment. “Don’t worry, my lord, you’re safer under my protection than the general’s.”

“You’re what? 14 years old? I have larvae older than you!” said Wat Tambor.

“16, actually. And I have a lot riding on our victory of this planet, so I would kindly ask you to calm down and transfer command of all forces to me. We have a common goal, my lord, and I happen to have an idea on how to beat the Republic forces,” she said.

“What is your plan?” asked Tambor.

“The Republic is stretched thin around the planet – they don’t have enough men to take it. They have a landing zone, but they won’t be having any reinforcements. Our intel suggests all nearby fleets are occupied with our local allies. They need help if they’re going to take this system.” Pallas looked at the Techno Union leader. “Who would you say could be an easy ally for the Republic on Ryloth?”

“The locals,” he said, glaringly. “But they’re no threat. Before the Republic arrived, we had complete control of the entire planet and the local rebellions have been squashed. Am I supposed to believe that now they are a threat?”

“It is the vengeful enemy that fights the fiercest,” she said and pressed a button to bring up the file of the Freedom Fighter general. “Cham Syndulla has been fighting for Ryloth’s independence from the beginning, no? He can be easily convinced to help the Republic take back his home from the Confederacy. We must crush the rebels before the Republic can regroup with them.” She turned to Tambor’s tactical droid. “Send out scouts! I want to know exactly where those rebels are located. Then, we shall bomb them out of their homes and force the Republic’s meagre forces to confront us on terrain advantageous to us.” _I did my homework before coming here._

“Roger, roger,” replied the droid and left to give our orders.

“What about those Republic forces? The ones heading for our position?” Tambor asked, eyeing the advancing AT-TE units on the mountains, which were quickly approaching the capital.

“We’ll box them in,” said Pallas and contacted the commander of the frontlines. “Commander, you have new orders. Concentrate your fire on the forward and rear units of those AT-TEs. Once you’ve boxed them in, fire at the mountains. Your firepower should create an avalanche that will collapse on top of them and take the enemy forces to the depths. Am I understood?”

“Roger, roger,” came the reply. Sometimes Pallas loved that the army was made of droids. They didn’t question orders and their loyalty did need to be won over or proved. She could just show them a badge and they would obey without hesitation. It was so simple.

“If you secure for me Ryloth, I will reward you greatly, commander,” said Wat Tambor, seeing that this teenage girl had a good plan.

“I sure hope so, my lord,” said Pallas, the ambitions dancing in her eyes. “There are a great many things that I crave.”

[][][]

_The old man who would have Pallas as his child-bride was not an evil man. He just happened to be trapped in a game of politics. In fact, Pallas was sure that Admiral Wodin chose to view the whole ordeal less as a marriage and more of an adoption. He certainly acted like a dad._

_One particular memory came to mind. She couldn’t place the date, but she couldn’t have been older than 10. They weren’t married, but their betrothal was agreed. He had caught her on the balcony watching her brother train with Count Dooku in the courtyard of their Raxus residence. Red lightsabres were dancing, and the count was giving instructions to his son about the best way to counter his attack. It couldn’t have been difficult to see her envy._

_“Pallas?” said the Admiral, curious. “What are you doing?”_

_“Nothing,” she said, not even lifting her eyes from the courtyard._

_“It’s not good to dwell on things you cannot have, Pallas,” said the Admiral. “Envying your brother is unbecoming.”_

_“I love my brother, but sometimes, just sometimes, I wish he’d never been born,” she said, quietly._

_“Don’t ever say that,” he said, an unusual sternness in his voice. “I don’t want you to ever say that!”_

_“But—”_

_“No,” he interrupted. “Family is the most important thing, Pallas. Family is survival.”_

_“I’ll never be a force-user,” she said, bitterly. She must have forgotten that he too was not a force-user, but she couldn’t help it. There was a monster in her chest. Ares was all that her father talked about in the rare moments that he invested in daughter-rearing. “My father will never be proud of me.”_

_“Both… of those things are true,” said Wodin. Pallas glared at him. “I won’t lie to you. It’s true what they say at your Academy. Your father is a Sith Lord, Pallas. He will always value strength and shun weakness.”_

_“Aren’t you supposed to say something comforting?” asked Pallas, making a move to leave the old man’s presence._

_“You didn’t let me finish,” said the Admiral. His voice that made Pallas physically stop her retreat, even if he didn’t touch her. “But your parents’ word is not law, not for you anyway. It is not your father, or anyone else for that matter, who you need to make proud. You have so many brilliant gifts, Pallas. Squandering them would be a grave sin.”_

_Pallas remembered feeling embarrassed and looking at her feet to hide it. She would think deeply about those words, in the day and the night and when Wodin would be dead._

_Wodin looked at the courtyard where the count was training his heir the ways of sorcery and violence. Pallas couldn’t guess what was on the Admiral’s mind in that moment. He seemed so powerful and wise to her both then and always. She’d be Wodin’s pride if she couldn’t be her Dooku’s._

_“Come,” he said, as he placed a hand on her shoulder and led her away from her father and brother. “There are things that I wish to teach you, but only if you cease resenting your brother. Can you promise me that?”_

_“I- I promise,” she said._

The scouts were back. “What have you found?” she asked.

“It was as you suspected, commander. Your brother is fighting in this invasion,” said the droid. “What are you orders?”

She touched a chain around her neck that had two golden rings looped through and gripped them tightly in her fist. “Begin the assault,” said Pallas.

[][][]

The rebel’s base had been on fire when Windu finally found it. Their corpses would be allies to no one. The Republic was on their own.

Mace Windu surveyed the most recent battlefield… a slaughterhouse. There were dead clones everywhere. The warzone was thick with the smell of smoke, firepower and death. The droids had been organised and efficient. Creative, even. This was no droid programming, or the hate-fuelled tactics favoured by Grievous. This was cold-blooded, calculating, psychological warfare. Whoever was commanding these droids knew what it felt like to be a living creature and to know fear. 

Perhaps the most innovative idea had been the nocturnal bombing raids. Nights were plagued by the sound of explosions and flares and screams. The days were not much better. Republic forces were gaining very little ground. Bombs fell even when it was a blackout. His troops were suffering from exhaustion and insomnia. No one could sleep when bombs were falling around them. Meanwhile, the droids, who didn’t need sleep, were fresh and ready to fire at any time of day.

With his forces depleted, Windu pulled Kenobi from the outer territories so they could combine forces. He had not been having much better luck since those frigates arrived and had been happy to regroup. There were so many dead.

Then two more Separatist frigates arrived and Windu knew what he had to do.

It was with much weight on his shoulders that Windu dialled Coruscant to speak to the Senator of Ryloth, Orn Free Taa, and tell him there was nothing the Republic could do for this planet anymore. They needed to pull out now or risk complete annihilation. The Senator cried and begged and pleaded with the Jedi to continue the war effort to save his people, but they all knew this battle was lost.

A council gathered to decide upon a decision of surrender. Windu and Kenobi from their base, Skywalker from his battered, outnumbered battle cruiser, the Senator, the Chancellor and Grandmaster Yoda on Coruscant all converged together to discuss this devastating blow to the Republic.

“Perhaps… we could send you reinforcements?” asked the Chancellor, tentatively prodding the wound.

“There are no reinforcements available. We’ve tried,” said Kenobi. He was battle wearied. Windu didn’t remember seeing the man so exhausted. “Master Luminara is busy with a Separatist blockade on Arkanis. Master Fisto is occupied on Dalchon. No one can spare us forces now and the Separatists seem to have received backup. Two frigates have entered the atmosphere today.”

“I tried to contact the local freedom fighters under the command of Cham Syndulla. I’m afraid that by the time that I found them, their base had been bombed and their numbers depleted. His remaining forces have rallied to our cause, but it is not enough,” added Windu.

Windu’s commander, Ponds, drew his general’s attention. “Sir, we have an incoming transmission from the enemy.”

“Put it through,” said Windu. The council observed as a red hologram of a teenage girl, wearing an old, blasted coat of a Separatist admiral, appeared before them.

“Greetings, Master Jedi. My name is Pallas and I am the commander of the Droid Army on Ryloth. Your forces are struggling, your supplies are depleted, and your defeat is imminent. I will give you one rotation to leave Ryloth now before more of my reinforcements arrive and annihilate what’s rest of your army. In exchange, I will provide food and medical supplies to the people that you are fighting so desperately to liberate. Do not take this decision lightly, Master Jedi. Do not make this invasion more costly than it already has been for you.” The hologram vanished, leaving the assembled council stunned.

“We are being beaten by a teenage girl?” The Chancellor asked, incredulous.

“Not everything, size is, chancellor,” said Yoda.

“Whoever she is, she is a deadly strategist and commander,” said Kenobi, scratching his beard.

“Wait… I know her,” said Skywalker, recollecting his memories from months ago. “I saw her on _The Malevolent_. She was on the commander’s bridge of Grievous’ ship when I was rescuing Senator Amidala... I’m pretty certain that’s the same girl.”

“Hm, another of Dooku’s children, that is,” said Yoda, in his sage wisdom. “Imprinted onto her, my old student’s mark is. The son we have for an ally, but the daughter remains our enemy.”

“Where is your captain, general Kenobi?” asked Windu.

“Scouting with my troops,” replied Kenobi. “I’ll call him back.”

“Why not just bomb the capital, Master Jedi?” asked the Chancellor, seemingly ignorant in the matters of military strategy.

“The commander holds hostages in the city. She’s used them as living shields outside the walls. I can’t risk killing them with a bombing assault,” said Windu. “I’m afraid, Senator, that this chess game has ended. We need to negotiate the best terms for your people.” The fat Senator protested vehemently at the absurdity. “I can assure you, Senator, that I am not taking my defeat to this… child… lightly.”

Windu’s temper looked calm on the surface, but inside there was a tempestuous storm. This would always be remembered as one of his greatest embarrassments and most mortifying defeats in the war. The invasion he himself had planned was now lost. The deaths of the innocents and the slight to his pride would not be easily forgotten by the Jedi Master. 

“Master Windu, are you seriously going to negotiate with a teenager about the future of this planet?” asked Skywalker.

“What choice do I have, Skywalker?” Mace Windu was open to ideas, but no suitable ones came.

They had lost. This was a day of victory for the Separatists.

[][][]

“General Windu! It is an honour to finally meet you face to face. It is not every day that one gets to meet their opponent,” Commander Pallas said to the Jedi Master.

The holograms of Pallas and Wat Tambor were seated in the Republican camp, whilst Windu and Kenobi were entertaining them. They had agreed to negotiate the terms of a Republican surrender. She knew that the bluff of more droid reinforcements in the guise of empty frigates looming over their forces would hasten their decision.

“Greetings, commander,” replied Windu, without much feeling in his words. “What’s the matter? Too afraid to come and meet me in person?” Any man in his position would sting from a sore wound of this defeat. She was so young and inexperienced even in holographic person. It boggled the Jedi’s mind that he was discussing his surrender with a child.

“Now, listen here, Jedi—” Tambor began, only to be silenced by his young commander raising her hand.

“I will own that, Jedi Master. Yes, I would be scared to meet you in person. My father often spoke of your prowess as a warrior. I’d imagine that the legends do not begin to give you justice,” she said. “But unlike my teacher, General Grievous, I’m no Jedi killer. I’m a simple tactician who just wants to get off this dusty planet and get back to some real fighting. Sieges are dull affairs.”

“You are Count Dooku’s daughter?” asked Kenobi.

“Indeed, and you are my brother’s new allies. Quite poetic,” she mused. “But enough about him. We’re here to discuss the Republic’s surrender of Ryloth. I have no interest in a long stalemate war of attrition, generals, though I can assure you that I have the supplies to venture down that route.”

“What are your terms?” asked Windu, glaringly.

“Your forces will evacuate the planet. The system of Ryloth will henceforth be the property of the Techno Union and the Republic will relinquish its claim of it as a state of the Galactic Republic,” said Tambor, gloating of the victory.

“In exchange, the people will be provided with food and medical supplies and released back to their homes,” added Pallas. “You have my word.”

“Yes, that too,” said Tambor, with an eye roll. He had little concern for the casualties of war.

“How can we assure that?” asked Kenobi. “I beg your pardon, commander, but your word is not worth very much.”

“One day, perhaps, I will have to negotiate terms of surrender to you, Master Jedi, and I will be forced to leave my people behind at the mercy of my enemies. I would like to believe that you will do the same honourable thing for me as I now do for you.”

“We’re Jedi! We don’t slaughter the innocents of war!” Windu shouted, running out of patience. This commander’s nobility seemed to be a graver thing than Grievous’ angry taunts. She was clever where Grievous was angry and that felt so much worse to Windu.

She fixed a patronising look upon the Jedi Master. “There is slaughter of innocence on both sides.” She paused, thinking of a way to speed up the conversation. Jedi made for annoying talkers. “Would a signed piece of paper appease you?” She said.

Windu glared.

“It will appease our politicians,” said Kenobi.

“It is a most noble gesture to save lives at the expense of pride,” said Pallas once their negotiations were completed. Windu did not dignify that with an answer.

“Before we leave, commander, there is someone we think you must speak to,” said Kenobi. Ares was let into the room and stepped into the holographic range and Pallas’ amicable façade dropped.

There were so many things that she was feeling at the sight of him. She looked him up and down, with a cold, mournful stare. “Ares, you’re alive… and within enemy ranks,” her voice was curt, reminiscent of the condescending, emotionless drawl their father so often employed. All that was a front of course. Her pained emotions were bottled up, inches away from bursting. She had to hold it together. He was not the same brother that she knew. _He’s a traitor, an enemy_ , she told herself, not really believing it.

He too was on the verge. The sight of his sister had brought up so many feelings. Confusion, love, hatred, fear, betrayal all swelling in a muddy cesspit inside his chest, gripping his heart with sharp claws. There were shameful tears ready to be wept in his eyes. “Sis… what-what are you doing?” his voice quivered. He was terrified of her, of what this war and his recent choices now meant for them. He hadn’t even thought about the consequences his actions would have made for her. _She would have taken his commission as commander_ , he realised. She had taken his place when he ran away.

“I’m fighting the war. I’m doing my duty to my home and family,” she replied simply. “What… are you doing?”

“But… you’re not a soldier. You’re not… _made_ for war,” he said, stunned that he even had a voice at this point. His throat had gone very dry. “You like art and poetry, philosophy and debate. You play chess games at tournaments, for Force’s sake, not tactics on a battlefield. You only shoot when hunting game. You were supposed to be a wife and mother!” With every word, Ares’ fury ignited more. “You- you have no business for war!”

“Yes, well… those things were taken from me,” Pallas said, sadly. She couldn’t stop a tear from escaping her. War graded at one’s taste for art and beauty.

“Please… for the sake of the mother that bore us, don’t fight. Don’t make me fight you! I can’t go back to father, but I can’t fight you!” begged Ares.

“Well, you’re going to have to,” said Pallas, icily. Her emotions fading slowly as she regained her composure.

The tears sprung and the full implications hit him. He didn’t care who saw him weep. For the first time, he realised that he would have to fight his twin sister to the death in this damnable war. “Join me. The Republic will give you amnesty! I’ll protect you from father!” Ares said, but he knew it was futile. 

“You can’t even protect yourself,” she said. For the first time, her eyes fell onto his gold, prosthetic hand with regret.

“Please! Pallas, don’t do this!” Ares begged.

“We’ve both made our choices. There is nothing else to discuss,” she said, cold and short, trying dangerously to make sure her words didn’t catch in her throat and suffocate her. “I look forward to your evacu—”

“Just answer me this one thing, Pallas!” Ares’ fury interrupted her with gritted teeth. “Is Father proud of you? You’re just a pawn to him. A piece on a chessboard to move as he pleases. Has he shown the barest sliver of pride or interest in your efforts?!”

There was an unnatural twinge in Pallas’ jaw. He had hit a nerve, something deep and painful for her. “He doesn’t need to,” she responded, tightly, overriding her instincts. “Good day, generals. I look forward to your immediate evacuation.”

Then the transmission ended. The boy smashed his fists onto the transmitter and his anger splintered the device. Glass shattered and the circuits crackled under his anger. Kenobi had to drag the distraught teenager away.

Ares would never feel emptier and angrier in his entire life as he did the day that the Republic surrendered Ryloth.

[][][]

The fleet went back to Coruscant to repair and regroup. Those involved with the invasion of Ryloth were free to rest and roam the metropolis until their call of duty returned. Ares found himself in a sleazy bar in the bowels of the Coruscanti underworld. The bartender was polishing his bottles and tending to only three other customers.

“Hey kid, you sure you old enough to drink so much?” the bartender asked for what felt like the hundredth time that evening.

“You will pour me another drink,” said Ares, trying to focus on the bartender’s mind with the force. It was difficult after so many drinks had burned through his stomach.

“I… will pour you another drink,” said the bartender, dazedly, as he grabbed the liquor bottle and emptied the dark poison. Ares tipped it down his throat and felt the burning sensation scorch his insides and dull his brain. Vaguely, he hoped it would drown him and end his miseries.

He had not mourned his father when Dooku cut off his arm. But this was different. Now, he had to fight and, if it came down to it, kill his best friend, his sister. They had shared a womb. They had shared everything since the day they were born: rooms, toys, secrets, games, squabbles, friends, enemies, everything. Since the dawn of time, they had been together.

He remembered climbing trees outside their mansion and force lifting her when she fell; she still had a scar on her right knee where her branch had cracked and scrapped her. He had about a dozen memories of them swimming together in their pool on their family owned beach house, with Lux Bonterri there and Pompeii Denturri sometimes too, though the cat hated water. Many a times he was copying homework from her to appease one of their boring tutors. When the chef droid’s back was turned, Ares would lovingly smuggle all her vegetables onto his plate and dispose his fatty meats to her. Often, they were sneaking past the guard droids and into Aunt Mina’s backyard to meet with Lux. ‘Thick as thieves’ they were called. Thick as thieves they were. Their father was often not home, and their mother was… complicated. They made each other their whole world.

When he had made his mind to go to the Republic, he had not considered that she would be used as a weapon by their father. She had simply not fit into his narrative or plan of how things would work out. He thought Dooku would leave her be in her Academy to study the things that she loved most. She was too young to be involved in the war. She was supposed to wait out the war while he and his father battled over the dominion. How foolish could he have been?! How naïve?!

Ares tipped another shot. His thoughts were getting fizzy. Questions bubbled.

What did she think when their father told her about him? What had their father told her? Did she know that their father condemned him to death? What did mother think? When had she shown even the slightest interest in war strategy, besides chess games? Why had all these questions not been taken into consideration when he made his great plan? Why had his plan gone so south so fast!?

“Captain,” said a familiar voice and a hand on his shoulder brought the young captain out of his slumber. He had laid his head, drunkenly asleep, on the tabletop of the bar. His joints were aching and his head was pounding. Everything was so blurred. “It’s time to go home,” the voice said.

It was a clone’s voice, but he couldn’t make out which one it was. They all sounded so alike, and he was not in the right sensibilities to discern them.

Seeing that the boy was too drunk to stand or walk, the clone sighed. He took Count Dooku’s lightsabre, clipped it onto his own belt so that it wouldn’t spontaneously ignite and kill someone, and lifted the teenager over his shoulder. The kid slumped on the soldier’s hard frame. “Thanks for looking after him, Eddy!” the clone told the bartender.

“I thought it was one of yours, Cody. I figured yellow stripes on the badge is usually one of your boys,” said the bartender. “Kid looked real sad in here. Downed a whole bottle of my strongest,” he said, as he helped the commander with the door.

Cody chucked the drunken form onto the back of his speeder. “Yeah, kid just lost someone very important to him, I heard.”

“Dead?”

“Worse,” Cody grumbled and got into the seat. He waved the bartender a polite goodbye and sped off to the Jedi temple with his drunken cargo secure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to COMMENT and leave kudos. I love reading what you thought.


	6. Lost Children

#  **Chapter 6 – Lost Children**

“I am so sick of your sister!” Skywalker yelled to the young captain beside him who was deflecting the blaster fire raining down on their ranks. Felucia was lost. The Separatist forces were overrunning them and all because their enemies put a teenage girl in charge. Ryloth was beginner’s luck, but Felucia was becoming ridiculous.

“Try sharing a womb and then talk to me about being sick of her, Skywalker,” replied Ares.

“One day, her lucky streak has to run out,” Skywalker said with a grunt as he cut down a droid.

“Where’s Ahsoka?” Kenobi chimed in, running up to the frontlines.

“She should be back from jungle patrol by now!” Skywalker replied.

“I’ll contact her,” Kenobi said.

“Make it quick. I can see our rescue,” said Ares, looking up and pointing to the approaching gunships.

“Look out!” Skywalker yelled as he rushed towards Ares and Kenobi and pushed them out of the way of a flaming vulture fighter crashing into their position.

“ _That_ was close!” Ares yelled.

They boarded Plo Koon’s rescue ships and gave the pilots the co-ordinates of Ahsoka’s position.

“…you are putting your troops lives in danger, young one! You will get on the ships when we arrive!” Kenobi’s voice was dangerous. When Skywalker and Ares boarded the gunship, they were surprised by this. Never had the padawan so outwardly disobeyed Kenobi.

“Where’s Ahsoka?” Skywalker asked once the gunship doors were closed and they were in the air.

“Following your teachings,” grumbled Kenobi.

“Is she winning?” Ares asked with a grin. Skywalker grinned, proud as ever of Ahsoka’s rule breaking.

“For now,” said Kenobi, glaring at both young men. They arrived at Ahsoka’s position. “She’s not stopping,” Kenobi told Skywalker.

“Land in front of her,” Skywalker ordered the pilot.

“What are you doing?!” Ahsoka yelled angrily at her master. “Can’t you see they’re retreating?”

“They’re about to overrun you, Ahsoka. You just can’t see it. Now follow orders and get in the ship!” Skywalker ordered in a voice that sounded like he was not playing around. Ahsoka conceded and got inside the gunship with the remainder of her troops. As they lifted into the air, the droids arrived in larger numbers and annihilated her AT-TEs. Ahsoka gave her two masters a guilty look. They had been right.

[][][]

Back on Coruscant, whilst the Jedi Council were dolling out Ahsoka’s punishment, Ares had been ordered to the barracks for unclear reasons.

“Captain Ares of the 212th, reporting, sir!” he saluted the Coruscant commander. The clone looked at him and then checked his list.

“Ares, huh? You have been assigned an astromech,” replied the commander.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Unit CL-Y!” The clone shouted to a line of droid units. One of them, a little red and gold astromech, rolled out of the line and wheeled towards them wheezing and whirling in joy. “Strange, captains don’t usually get assigned droids. Usually just generals and pilots. This one is yours.”

“But I didn’t ask for one,” defended Ares, not pleased to receive the new responsibility. Droids needed care, repairs, maintenance, fuel, oil baths and space, which he did not have the credits for. An ex-separatist captain didn’t pay too well. It was like having a pet or a child that one couldn’t afford.

“Too bad, kid. You’ve been ordered from someone high up to have one because of… ‘recent disturbing and life-threatening circumstances’,” the Commander read from a datapad with a crooked eyebrow. “What’s that referring to?”

Ares signed, realising what those ‘circumstances’ were. “A recent assassination attempt on my life by Dooku’s personal assassin. But how is a droid supposed to protect me from that?”

The clone pressed his pad to see. “In addition to the usual astromech arsenal of tools, she’s equipped with advanced wireless communication range, hazard and risk assessment software, emotional intelligence software, first aid programming and a stunner blaster. So, she can call for help, assess the danger, heal basic injuries and stun your enemies. Pretty cool, huh?”

Ares looked at the small droid sceptically. “ _She_?” The droid bounced with excitement, which was weird because droids weren’t usually equipped with emotions such as excitement.

The clone shrugged. “Here’s the manual. She’s yours. Just sign off here,” the clone indicated the line and gave him the book. “And you’re free to go.”

“You know, most soldiers come to the barracks to get a helmet or a new gun or something. Why am I getting a droid?” asked Ares.

“Not my job to ask questions, kid. I’ve told you all I know. Take it, captain. It’s quite an impressive model. Could save your life,” replied the clone, as he moved on to the next person in need of his attention.

Ares sighed and looked down at the droid. “Alright, come on, newbie,” he said and left the barracks with the little astromech in tow.

“What’s with the droid?” asked Skywalker as he and Ahsoka were heading down to the library to serve her punishment. 

“Don’t ask,” glowered the young captain. The droid whirled in glee, which amused the two Jedi and made Ares scowl even more.

“Aw, it’s cute,” Ahsoka went down to its level to pet it. “Where’d you get it?”

“It is a ‘she’, apparently. And I have it because someone doesn’t want to put my life to the mercy of your skills. So, they gave me this… bodyguard,” said Ares. “Personally, I prefer your guardianship, commander.” He gave her a flirtatious smile.

The commander glared. “I am so grateful that now I can spend my time on more _important things_ than saving your skin,” said Ahsoka, patting the droid. CL-Y seemed to be amused.

“What do you mean I’m not an important thing?” asked Ares.

“Alright, Snips. Let’s get to the library. I need to be in a meeting with Obi-Wan soon to discuss what the loss of Felucia means for us. Ares, you better be on your way there now. We need to talk about your sister,” said Skywalker, heading down to the library.

“You got grounded?” Ares smirked, delighted at the padawan’s pain.

“I’m a Jedi! I don’t get grounded! It’s… just… guard duty,” said Ahsoka.

“That’s another word for grounded,” Ares said and whistled. “The Motherbird’s wings have been clipped.” Ahsoka sent him one last glare before running to catch up with her master. “Alright, come on, CL-Y. Let’s go to this stupid meeting.”

[][][]

“The loss of Felucia has halted our efforts in the whole sector. It will take weeks before we can…” said Kenobi, pointing at the hologram map with Anakin, Windu, Ares and Mundi in the room. He was interrupted by Yoda, who had just entered the room with a pained look. “Master Yoda? What is it?”

“A disturbance in the Force, there is. Intruders in this temple, there will be,” he said, gripping his cane tightly. That was about as much information as could be granted. “Stop the intruders, Kenobi and Skywalker will. Meditate some more, to learn of our intruders I will. Young Ares, come with me.”

“General?” Ares asked, confused, following the small green Jedi as instructed. He in turn was followed by his new astromech unit.

“Trying to infiltrate our temple, the dark side is. With me, come and meditate. Aid us, your connection to the dark side will,” said the old master. “Outside your droid can wait.” The droid beeped and stood outside, ever eager to prove itself a useful creature.

“I thought you purified me from using the dark side,” said Ares as they entered a meditation room. _Even though it’s a natural half of the force that moves the universe,_ he thought bitterly, _but that’s none of my business._

“Hinder you, the ritual cannot. To those who dabbled in darkness, show the light, it does. Clouded the light side of the force is, but perhaps the dark is not. Much to learn from our enemies, we can, my young friend,” said Yoda. Ares crocked an eyebrow. His father liked to say that often. A lesson from his old Jedi master, perhaps. “Take a seat, young one. Focus. What you see, tell me.”

Ares did as he was instructed. He sat on the meditation mat, crossed his legs and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths and allowed the Force to flow through him. There was nothingness for a long time. “I don’t think this is a matter of the dark-side, Master Yoda. I don’t see anything.”

“Focus! Use your training!” Yoda instructed. “Not often it is that you meditate, young one? Hm? Always on the move. Active you are. Clouded your vision is. Clear your mind. Powerful the mind is. Use yours.”

Ares tried again and fell into the abyss of the darkness. It was so cold, heavy and murky in this void, but flashes came before him as he focused harder. A cold shiver ran down Ares’ spine as he focused. “I see… younglings? That can’t be right… I see… younglings being cared for by a… droid… in a factory?”

“Good. What else do you see, young one?” Yoda’s voice echoed distantly.

“I see… a shapeshifter… in a library… and a Rodian being dragged away by battle droids …” Ares opened his eyes. “I’m sorry, General Yoda. I can’t make sense of anything. These are very strange things that I see. I’m afraid I’m not much help to you.”

“A great help, you are,” said Yoda. “Message Padawan Tano. Expect a shapeshifter intruder in the library, she must.”

Ares clicked his commlink unsurely. _The Jedi were a weird people_ , he concluded. “Hey, Ahsoka. Master Yoda wants me to inform you that you should expect a shapeshifter in the library. There are intruders in the Temple,” he said.

There was a surprised paused from the padawan. He could almost picture the look on her face. “…Ok. I’ll keep a look out for it.”

Ares looked at the Jedi Grandmaster for further instruction. Yoda directed him to continue meditating with him, until a sudden whistling sizzled sharply in Ares’ ear, like a fast train, and he broke his concentration.

“They’ve arrived,” he said.

“Yes. So, they have,” replied Yoda. “Feel it, I do too. Warn we must, Kenobi and Skywalker.” Yoda summoned his walking cane.

[][][]

“Arrived? But if they’re not here, what could they be after?” asked Kenobi the two newcomers to the security station.

“If you were infiltrating the Jedi Temple undetected, where would you go, general?” asked Ares.

“The communications centre, perhaps, their target is,” replied Yoda.

“They must be in the central ventilation system,” Anakin said immediately. He spent too much of his own life in ventilation systems.

“Let me check the computers,” Kenobi punched in his numbers. “You’re right. There’s been a disturbance. It’s near the top of the south tower.”

“I’ll meet you up there,” agreed Skywalker.

“Master Yoda,” Ares said in the fashion of a goodbye, but the Grandmaster stopped him.

“No, young one. Stay here, you will. Scanning the systems to see if more disturbance, you need be,” said Yoda. “I must attend to matters of the war effort, now.” The old creature hummed and left the youth alone.

 _This was a punishment,_ thought Ares, despairingly as he kept clicking the refresh button every 30 seconds to see for more disruptions. _And_ _I haven’t even done anything,_ he thought with annoyance. He had been _asked_ to use the dark side. Why was he suffering punishment for following orders?

His newest astromech was keeping him company. She watched him with unblinking attention, which Ares found eerie. Then again, droids couldn’t blink.

“You as bored as I am? How about you refresh this thing. Maybe you’ll do a better job at finding our intruders than I am,” said Ares, sitting back in his seat and putting his boots up. The droid plugged in and started searching.

Suddenly, something came up on the scanners. Ares stood up in surprise. “Nice job, CL-Y!” and immediately clicked his commlink. “Generals, the Holocron room! Someone has blown up the control panel near it!”

“What… but we just— Bomb!” came Skywalker’s voice before a loud explosion was heard on his commlink and another signal of disruption came up on the scanners.

“What’s going on?” asked Ares. “Talk to me, generals.”

“We’re fine,” said Kenobi, coughing. “A small bomb went off in the communications room. We’re going to the Holocron room now!”

“What could anyone want with a Jedi Holocron?” asked Skywalker over the commlink as he was running.

“Masters!” Ahsoka’s voice interrupted their shared commlink channel. “I’ve found a changeling bounty hunter in the archives! She says her partner is after a holocron.”

“Ares, go to the library!” Obi-Wan yelled. “Help Ahsoka. We’ll be down there in a minute.”

“Stay here droid, keep an eye out for anything else,” Ares said as he was running out of the room as quickly as he could.

Ahsoka was cuffing a changeling in the library. “Nice of you to show up,” she said once she saw him. Ares ran past her and to the Holocron room, using the force to get the doors open. “We can’t go in there. It’s for Jedi Masters only,” said Ahsoka.

“The intruder is in there,” said Ares, doing his best to focus on the force-sensitive door-lock. The doors remained closed. Ares growled in frustration. “Don’t suppose you know the dial code?”

“That’s why it’s for Jedi Masters only,” said Ashoka.

Ares took out his lightsabre to cut open the door. He could sense the intruder inside. He could hear him even. A blue lightsabre joined his attempt at door cutting and Ares looked over to see Skywalker assisting him.

“Could have just used the lock,” said Obi-Wan watching them. Ahsoka was holding down the bounty hunter beside him.

“It… wouldn’t… open… for me,” Ares grunted as he and Skywalker finished, and the door fell open. No one was inside anymore. They were too late. The escape route, which was a ventilation duct, was empty.

“One of the holocrons is missing,” Kenobi observed as the rest of the Jedi Council arrived. “It was never about our military plans. What could anyone want with a Jedi holocron?”

“Come on, changeling. We have a new home for you,” said Ahsoka to her captive, pushing her towards the Jedi cells.

“Wait…” the bounty hunter said and the Jedis looked at her. “Bolla Ropal.”

“What did you say?” demanded Mace Windu.

“That’s who Bane’s next target is. Some Jedi,” she added.

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked, seeing the disturbed faces of his masters. “Who’s Bolla Ropal.”

“He is the keeper of the Kyber crystal, the data on which can only be read by holocrons,” replied Mace Windu.

“A Rodian,” said Yoda, piecing the puzzle together. “A Rodian being dragged away by droids, young Ares had a vision of. And younglings too… clear it is becoming now.”

“What’s on the crystal?” asked Skywalker.

“A list of every known force-sensitive child in the galaxy. The future younglings. The future of the Jedi Order,” said Windu.

“And you saw them … what? Being killed? In danger?” Kenobi asked his young captain.

“No, not dead, but being cared for by droids… I don’t know, it was dark and murky. I wasn’t supposed to be there,” said Ares.

“We have to warn him,” decided Skywalker. “We need to stop that from happening.”

“Patience, Skywalker,” said Yoda, weary of how Skywalker liked to imagine that he was powerful enough to change the future.

“That’s going to be hard to do,” said Windu. “He’s out of contact, somewhere in the Devaron system.”

“Seek him out, you must,” said Yoda.

“Ahsoka and I will set out immediately,” Skywalker declared.

“If this Cad Bane is still here on Coruscant, I’ll find him,” added Kenobi.

[][][]

It was safe to say that Cade Bane was not on Coruscant. Kenobi and Ares had no lead or reason to suspect that the bounty hunter didn’t get off world as soon as he had the holocron. Their search had come to naught. Meanwhile, Skywalker and Ahsoka were battling a Separatist rental fleet to save the Keeper of the Kyber crystals with equal success.

“Our enemies are evading us at every turn,” Kenobi said to the Jedi Order once Skywalker and his padawan reported that the Bounty Hunter has evaded them with a decrypted holocron.

“Inflict devastating damage on the Jedi Order, Bane could,” said Yoda.

“We’ve discovered Bane’s working with the Separatists,” said Skywalker.

“There are thousands of children on that list,” said Kenobi. “Which will he go after first?”

“Small chance there is, through the force, the Council may detect them,” said Yoda. “And bring Young Ares, Master Kenobi. Advantageous in predicting recent events, his connection to the dark side has been.”

So, they gathered together in a room to seek out the children in danger: Masters Kenobi, Skywalker, Yoda, Windu and the young captain. _An odd meeting_ thought Ares as he sat down and began meditating.

“A jungle world... Dome cities I see,” said Yoda to his pupils. “Rodia it is…”

“A house in Kay Tap Square…” said Kenobi. “I see it too.”

“There’s an ocean planet, home to Nautolans… Glee Anselm?” said Mace.

“Glee Anselm I see not,” said Yoda. “Pantora… I see Orto Plutonia… a child has been taken from there.”

“I sense… a place I’ve been to before… Waterfalls… Naboo,” said Skywalker.

“Jan-Gwa… a village, southern sector,” said Yoda. “Sense it strongly, I do.”

“The Gungan child was screaming!” Skywalker arose from his trance in horror.

“The future you see, young Skywalker,” guided Yoda. “To Naboo you must go. Cad Bane you will find. With you, take your padawan.”

“Ares, do you see anything?” Kenobi asked his young captain, who had been silent the whole session.

“I see none of the things you described,” he said, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“See what do you,” asked Yoda.

“I see… younglings in a sinister nursery… being cared for droids… they’re on a world made of lava… the dark side is so strong there,” said Ares, concentrating. “It… it calls to me. It calls my name… it says, ‘come home’. I can see the nursery, the platform, the lava mountain. The dark side is very strong there.”

“The younglings… describe them, can you?” asked Yoda.

“A… Nautolan child… and a Rodian… and a Pantoran,” said Ares.

“Draws you, the dark side does. Strayed from it, you have, by being away from your master. Strong your father’s mark is upon you,” said Yoda, sagely. “Return you, it seeks. Resist, you must.”

“This lava world… That could be where Bane is hiding the children,” said Kenobi.

“Not if we get to the children before he does,” said Skywalker with determination.

[][][]

Kenobi and Ares arrived at the home of the Rodian child. The general banged on the door and a middle-aged Rodian woman opened the door with a glare at the two.

“If you’re looking for my son, he is not here!” She said viciously and slammed the door in their faces.

“Charming,” said Ares looking around, as Kenobi tried to pry the door open. He could sense that the bounty hunter still here. “I’ll go around.” He told Kenobi and force jumped onto the roof of the woman’s home to oversee the backyard and there he was. The bounty hunter was making his escape from Kenobi with the child and the mother trailing behind. He had a spaceship in the backyard landing bay. Ares jumped to it and landed in front of the bounty hunter. He punched the alien’s face, drawing green blood on his knuckle, and making him stumble to the ground clutching the child tightly. Ares stood over him and pointed his red sabre’s tip at the bounty hunter.

“Give me the kid, Bane! You’re finished,” said Ares, outstretching a hand.

Cad Bane glared his ruby red eyes at the threat and wiped his bleeding mouth. He looked behind him to see Kenobi was gaining fast with the mother. He took out his blaster and pointed it at the child. It was crying, screaming for its mother. “Not so fast, Jedi! You wouldn’t want anything to happen to the little one!” said Bane.

Ares halted, thinking. If he aimed his lightsabre at the exact right angle then the child might not get harmed, but Obi-Wan must have sensed his captain’s train of thought. “No, Ares! Don’t risk it!” The mother was crying hysterically beside him.

“Let me get onto my ship, Jedi,” said Cad Bane.

“I’m no Jedi,” growled Ares, slowly stepping off the ship, but keeping his sabre on. He was waiting for Bane to board and place either the kid or the gun down to start the ship. Ares would strike then.

“Ares, don’t. If you make a mistake, he’ll hurt the child. If you damage the ship, the child might not survive the crash,” said Kenobi, proving to be very good at reading Ares’ train of thought.

“So long, Jedi!” Cad Bane yelled as he slammed his foot on the dashboard and the doors shut. Momentarily, the ship was in the air and flying out. Bane escaped.

“Damn it,” Ares hissed at his failure.

“It’s ok. We know where he is not. Send word to Anakin and tell him what happened. We still have a chance to capture him on Naboo, if we prepare,” said Kenobi before comforting the grieving mother.

Ares looked at the ground and noticed something. It must have fell off Bane’s belt upon his impact with the ground. The action and excitement of the moment made Ares miss it. A familiar padawan’s braid was lying there on the ground. Ares picked it up and grinned. _Ahsoka was going to love this_ , he thought.

[][][]

Kenobi and Ares arrived on Skywalker’s ship quickly. Skywalker had been successful in capturing Bane on Naboo thanks to the warning. Bane was being interrogated. Ares made his way to Ahsoka, being followed by his astromech. She was standing behind the ray shields, outside the interrogation room, watching Bane’s questioning.

“I believe this belongs to you?” asked Ares, making a show of proffering the braid like a knight in shining armour on one knee and with one hand on his heart. She grabbed it from him quickly, before he could name a price for it or something equally irritating.

“Why do you have that?” she asked, as she clipped it back onto her headpiece.

“Punched the slimeball hard enough,” Ares commented, shrugging, getting back on his feet.

“But you let him get away with the child?” she asked, with a crooked eyebrow.

Ares rolled his eyes. “He was holding a blaster to it. What was I supposed to do? You Jedi don’t take kindly to child sacrifices,” he said. “Besides, what are you complaining about? I basically gave you the chance to kick his butt. Very impressive, by the way.”

“Well… thanks for this,” said Ahsoka, cautiously warm. “This braid means a lot to me.”

The ray shield disabled and the three Jedi Masters came out of the interrogation chamber. “This world… on which you saw with the children being cared for by nurse-droids… what world was it?” asked Kenobi.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been there before. It was hot, stiflingly hot, and so strong with the dark side. There was lava everywhere,” he said.

“That’s no help. There are hundreds of lava worlds,” said Skywalker. “His navigation records have been wiped clean before he landed on Naboo. We tore his ship apart.”

“I know your code frowns upon harming unarmed life, but my old man taught me a trick or two when you need answers fast. I’ll be quick, I promise,” said Ares, crackling his knuckles. His blood yearned for a little excitement. The life in the Jedi temple was beginning to soften him. Yoda’s words about his straying from the dark side was not at all reassuring. He was becoming weaker, like them. He couldn’t have that. He still had a father out there that needed to be stopped.

“No. Torture rarely leads one to the right answers, captain,” said Kenobi, putting a hand on his captain’s shoulder and glaring at him. “We are not doing that. There has to be another way.”

“We’ll have to use the force to make him talk,” said Anakin.

“I don’t think Bane is that weak,” said Kenobi.

“Maybe if we all concentrated on his mind together,” suggested Ahsoka.

“Using the force to make his mind co-operate is… risky,” said Kenobi, but this plan sounded better than Ares’ suggestion.

“There is a danger that his mind could be destroyed in the process,” added Windu.

“Do we have another choice?” asked Skywalker.

“Ye—” Ares started.

“No,” said Windu interrupted, glaring at the boy. The three men went back into the questioning room.

Ares sighed. CL-Y bumped into him gently and gave a comforting noise. He patted the golden and red droid. “Thank you, CL-Y. I still think my idea is better.”

“Oh, stop whinging,” said Ahsoka with a roll of her eyes as they watched the interrogation from behind the ray shields.

[][][]

Bane agreed to take them to the holocron and children, somewhat too easily. Ares remained unconvinced.

“Can’t you see that this is a trap? He’s going to lead you astray,” Ares said to Kenobi, with gritted teeth. He had it with being side-lined and ignored and punished for his practises of the dark arts.

“Of course, it’s a trap, Ares,” said Kenobi as he and Windu were preparing to set off with Bane.

“Then let me come with you!” he pleaded.

“That’s why we’re going and you’re staying here. Wherever he is keeping them, the dark side of the force is strong, and it has a strong influence over you, my friend. I don’t want to lose you to that void and I’m not too happy about Master Yoda encouraging your connection to it anyway. Your constitution is fragile. Stay here and hold down the fort,” Kenobi assured, almost fatherly.

“My constitution is _fragile_?” he asked, incredulous.

Kenobi gave him a look. “That is a direct order from your general, captain. You will not be coming with us.”

Skywalker was given the same treatment. He was given the job of reporting to the Chancellor on their progress.

Ares patted his droid and made his way to his quarters. He hated not having anything meaningful to do. It left him alone with his thoughts and they had been terrifying as of late. He dropped himself onto his bunk in the barracks. CL-Y bumped into him as he lay on the bed and beeped to him a suggestion of what he could be doing in the meantime. Ares waved the droid away. “Let me take a nap, droid.” He put the pillow over his head.

“Uh-uh, up and at ‘em, captain. You’re helping me check through Bane’s ship,” the voice of Ahsoka interrupted his quiet snooze.

He kept the pillow over his face. “CL-Y, your voice has sure changed… for the worse,” Ares joked. The droid chuckled. Ahsoka summoned the pillow with the force and then hit him with it.

“Come on, you can make your jokes whilst we’re doing this boring job,” she said.

“My dear commander, no job is boring when you’re around,” he said, smirkingly, as he jumped off the bed.

“Oh, I wish I could say the same about you, captain,” she countered, smirking devilishly.

“Ouch,” he said, mocking pain.

They went down to the hangar to scour anything else from Bane’s ship, trading verbal blows and comebacks. Keeping the wit sharp and aggressive was important for a duellist and a vital tool in the arsenal of war. Their verbal spar was interrupted when Skywalker returned from debriefing the chancellor and got up to the cockpit of the ship.

“What were you guys talking about?” Skywalker asked, absentminded.

“Oh, nothing, master,” said Ahsoka, nonchalantly.

“Ahsoka was just here admiring my—” Ares was interrupted by a flying wrench hitting him square on the head.

“You don’t want to finish that sentence,” the commander glowered. “There’s nothing to be admired.”

Skywalker chuckled at the antics between the two. Teenagers were a joy. “Have either of you checked the landing gear?”

“Double checked it,” informed Ahsoka. “I have a feeling Master Windu and Obi-Wan could’ve used our help.”

“Thank you!” Ares said, throwing the dangerous wrench projectile away.

“Hey, I don’t like being out of the action either, but somebody’s got to do this job,” said Skywalker.

“And it always ends up being us,” she said, getting under the ship. “Hm, Bane picked up a lot of volcanic ash on his travels.”

“Yeah, but which volcano,” Ares said.

“What have you got, R2?” Skywalker asked. “Aha!” Ares and Ahsoka lifted themselves onto the wings of the ship to see what the general had found. “Looks like Bane erased his navigation records, but not his fuel computer. So, if we cross the list of planets, we know he visited with the distance he travelled…”

“We may be able to calculate where else he went. That’s a new one,” finished Ahsoka.

“Most resourceful,” added Ares.

“It’s an old Jedi trick we use to track down smugglers,” said Skywalker. “Ok, let’s see. Glee Anselm, Rodia, Pandora, Mustafar and Naboo.”

“Mustafa? There were no children on Mustafa,” said Ahsoka.

“It’s a mining world, very remote… hang on. You said in your vision the children were being kept in a lava world?” asked Skywalker.

“Yeah, what of it?” said Ares.

“Mustafa is a lava world. Guess that’s where we’re going,” said Skywalker getting out of the cockpit.

“Ooh, I get to interrupt the buddy comedy that is the adventures of General Skywalker and Commander Tano?” said Ares, rubbing his hands.

“This buddy comedy just turned into a travelling circus if you’re coming with us,” said Ahsoka, punching his shoulder lightly.

[][][]

As soon as they landed on the lava world, Ares felt something change. It was like that feeling of someone coming home, back to the place where he belonged. There was a whisper in the wind that was seductive and cold at once. The hairs on his neck stood up at the sensation. The dark side was incredibly strong here.

“This is the right place,” he said. “I can feel it. Yes, this is the place from my vision.”

“I sense something, master, and I don’t like it,” said Ahsoka.

“It’s the dark side, Ahsoka. Do you feel it too, Ares?” replied Skywalker.

“Vividly,” replied Ares. “Home sweet home.”

They entered the building. The cry of a baby echoed somewhere deep inside.

“Did you hear that?” Ahsoka asked.

“Yeah, I heard it,” said Skywalker. “The question is, where are they?”

“This way,” said Ahsoka and Ares, simultaneously, pointing to the same corridor. She was using the light to sense the children’s innocence and he was using the dark to sense their fear. For each, both were as easy to find, like the scent of an animal in a long hunt.

They ran for it, lightsabres ready and came to a sealed door that was quickly cut open by Skywalker and Ahsoka. It was dark inside. The cradles and the room were familiar to Ares.

“This is the room I saw in my vision,” said Ares.

“We’re too late,” said Ahsoka, checking the cradles.

“I can sense they’re still here,” said Anakin.

They were. The droids from Ares’ vision swiped at each of them with long sharp blades and using the younglings as shields against the lightsabres.

“Careful of the younglings!” Anakin yelled to his two companions.

“I know!” Ahsoka yelled back.

“Uh, I hate children,” whispered Ares before he lost his footing. The building was sinking. The gravity support must have been turned off. They were destroying the evidence. He focused on summoning the child to him with the force. It was screaming, which made it difficult for him to focus. “Gah! Fine. If you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you,” he conceded and sliced the droid’s legs and then arms off. He took hold the Pantoran child, ignoring its uncomfortable screams in his arms. It had passed from one distrustful creature to another.

He looked at Skywalker and Ahsoka, who were having equivalent of levels of success with their Rodian and Gungan. The door of their escape was shut.

“The panel’s fried,” Ahsoka said.

“Where’s R2—” Skywalker didn’t even have the chance to finish his sentence before the astromech revealed himself on the other side of the door. They all ran for their ship. Skywalker fired up the engines and they watched the base sink into the lava from space.

[][][]

“The base was completely destroyed, Master, and so was any clue who’s behind this,” said Skywalker to the Jedi Council once they were back on Coruscant.

“Most unfortunate, this is,” said Yoda.

“And we still have Bane,” reasoned Skywalker, optimistically. The members looked downcast at one another.

“He got away again?” bemoaned Ahsoka.

 _What did I say, Obi-Wan?_ Ares thought to himself, angrily. Hoping that the Jedi Master could read his mind at that. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Obi-Wan gave him a brief glare.

“The important thing is that the children are safe and we’ve recovered the holocron. The list is intact, and there is no evidence it was copied,” said Windu.

“Still, the future of all Jedi uncertain is,” said Yoda. “Move forward cautiously we must.”

Once business was conducted and everyone left, Kenobi cornered Yoda. “Master Yoda, a word, if you please?”

“Yes, Master Kenobi? Troubles you, what does?” asked the Grandmaster.

“When the council agreed to taken on Dooku’s son into our care, it was made clear that we were to dissuade him of the proclivities of the dark side. I have done my best to impart onto him the values of the Jedi, however difficult that is during a time of war. And yet, I see that you have been encouraging him to the dark side, Master. Please, explain.”

Yoda hummed. “Offend you, Master Kenobi, never my intention it was. Agree with you, I did on that fateful day, despite the opinions of the majority of our council. Shows an unusually strong connection to the dark side, the boy does. Influence this connection, you cannot, no matter how much you try. Care for him, you do, Obi-Wan, but trust him you must. Chose to come to us, he did. Choose to resist the dark side, you must trust that he will too.”

“So why encourage him, Master?” asked Kenobi.

“Your padawan, he is not,” said Yoda. “Use a lightsabre and be one with the force, he may, but a Jedi he is not. Using the darkness is his talent. We only increase its lure, if forbid him its uses.”

**Everyone, remember to REVIEW. Let me know what you thought, what your favourite parts were, anything.**


	7. Burden of Command

#  **Chapter 7 – Burden of Command**

A knock rapped on Ares’ door and Obi-Wan stood on the other side. “Come on, captain, let’s get some food. We have a long invasion starting tomorrow and I want to eat something other than ration bars,” said Obi-Wan.

“Coming, general,” said the teenager, shutting off the holomap. He had been going over the battle plans again, memorising the Geonosian terrain. He knew the landscape so well that he felt one with those bugs.

CL-Y, his astromech, followed him closely and the two men loaded the little heavy droid onto the captain’s speeder. They zoomed off to a diner well frequented by them in the middle levels of Coruscant.

When they entered, a green Twi’lek waitress gave them a strange look and glanced at their lightsabres hanging from their belts. “No droids allowed,” she said. Ares rolled his eyes and ordered CL-Y to wait outside. She showed them to a nice table and they ordered their food.

Kenobi observed his young captain. There was a nervous twitch in his non-metallic fingers. The force that surrounded him was uneasy. His mind was elsewhere, evidently.

“What troubles you, captain?” Kenobi asked.

“What makes you think something troubles me?” replied Ares, defensive.

“I like to think that I know you well enough,” said Kenobi.

Ares sighed. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about my sister. I dread to think of meeting her on a battlefield and needing to choose what to do with her. It’s fine when she’s some distant commander marshalling droids, but what happens when I will stand right in front of her and I have to subdue her and possibly kill her. I never loved my father – I obeyed and respected him, but he is not a lovable man. Betraying him didn’t hurt as much as this does. There was nothing and no one that I loved more than my sister and now she’s my enemy.”

Kenobi felt for the boy. “I’m afraid that is the tragedy of love. The people we love make choices regardless of our wants, Ares. We just have to live with it.” The Jedi’s mind wandered to a Duchess that he had known long ago. He would have given up the life of a Jedi for her, but that had not been her choice.

Ares sensed the direction of Kenobi’s thoughts, if not the details. He wanted to ask, but the matter seemed delicate. “Was there someone you loved, Obi-Wan?” It felt strange to call the general by his first name.

“All Jedi love someone or will love someone in their future. I imagine even Master Yoda, pure Knight of the Light as he is, after almost 900 years would have encountered attachment. What matters is what we choose to do about those attachments. Do we allow them to rule us or let them go?” said Kenobi. “I tried teaching this lesson to Anakin countless times, but he rarely listens. When you wield as much power as a Jedi does, it is important that the fate of the universe does not depend on your attachment to one thing.” 

Their food arrived. Two bowls of hot, steaming, sweet and sour noodles were served. They had no good nutritional value and therefore would never feature in their military diet, but they were delicious. A favourite of both men.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for you all day,” said Ares to his food. Kenobi chuckled at his captain’s enthusiasm.

Suddenly, the gold and red astromech came bursting through the door, crashing into waitresses carrying hot meals and screeching at the two men. The astromech produced her appendages to grab Ares’ spoon and, since she couldn’t reach his hand, pinched Kenobi’s arm to so that he would drop his own cutlery.

“Ow! Blasted droid!” Kenobi hissed in irritation.

“Hey! What’s the deal with the droid!” The diner’s owner yelled at them.

“What are you doing, CL-Y?” Ares spoke. She beeped at him in her dialect. “What do you mean we’re about to get poisoned? How would you know that?”

“Poison?” Kenobi exclaimed.

One of the waitresses, the Twi’lek one that served them, panicked and made a run for it. Ares focused and, lifting her from the ground with one hand, force chocked her. He ignited the red blade and brought it close to her throat as all the other customers in the diner ran off screaming in fear. “Who are you?” he demanded off her.

The pressure of the chokehold made her reveal her true colours. The green Twi’lek face transformed into grey, patchy flesh, and big, green dilated eyes. It was a changeling.

“Let her go, Ares. She can’t tell us anything if she can’t breathe,” reasoned Obi-Wan, softly.

Ares eased his grip, against his whispering desires. Ventress’ assassination attempt was still fresh in his memory. His brain beat with fear and rage.

“I was paid to kill the boy… if I brought a Jedi head, my benefactor… would pay a bonus,” she managed to stifle out.

“By whom?” Kenobi demanded.

“I never saw the face,” she defended. “…they wore a hood.”

“Was it this?” Ares took out his holotransmitter from his belt and found his father’s face.

“It could be… I don’t know!” she screeched back. “Let me go!”

“Not on your life, bounty hunter,” growled Ares.

“Ares…” Kenobi said, patiently. “We don’t have time for this. We have to wake up early for an invasion tomorrow. Let’s just call the police inspector and let them deal with this?”

“This is personal, general. I was the target,” Ares snarled, fury burning inside. “We could have been killed…like, realistically.” His fear was pounding in his head. Death had been so close. A death that he had no power to prevent. “Poison is a coward’s weapon,” he growled.

“Do not let your emotions cloud your vision of the bigger picture,” said Kenobi, getting a pair of cuffs from his belt. “Let her go… do it for me, Ares,” he said, softly and fatherly.

“Fine,” Ares said and dropped her to the floor. She fell and felt her damaged throat. Kenobi cuffed her to a radiator and gave instructions to the diner owner whilst Ares cooled his fury on fresh air outside by their speeders.

“You’re a good droid,” he said, patting the golden head of the astromech unit as he waited for Kenobi. She seemed to purr back at his appreciation.

[][][]

“I cannot believe we are back here again,” said Kenobi to his fellow Jedi Master, Ki Adi Mundi. The generals stood on the ship bridge witnessing the descent onto the dusty planet of Geonosis. They had just broken through the Separatists fleet thanks to Skywalker’s daring space tactics and intrepid fighter squadrons. Ares was checking the scanners, listening in on the old men’s conversation.

“It is unfortunate,” said Mundi. “The resistance from the native Geonosians was stronger than we anticipated.”

“The same can be said for their loyalty to Count Dooku,” added Kenobi.

“A fact that is often overlooked,” said Mundi, just as Skywalker and his padawan joined them. Ahsoka made a beeline for Ares’ workstation and elbowed him friendlily as a greeting. He sent back a mock overdramatic reaction as if her elbow had shot him. She rolled her eyes but was amused.

“You’re late,” said Kenobi. Ares grinned to hear this. No matter what kind of tolerable rapport he would have with Skywalker, he would forever enjoy Kenobi telling him off.

“Sorry, master,” said Skywalker. “Ahsoka and I were busy routing the Seppies over Dorin.”

“My squadron alone had 55 kills,” said Ahsoka, flaunting that number to her masters.

“Yeah, but mine had 76,” Skywalker countered, grinning victoriously.

“Show off,” she said and rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you two are enjoying yourself,” said Kenobi with the annoyance of an exhausted parent and proceeded to rant at Skywalker. Meanwhile, Ahsoka looked at Ares.

“What’s with you?” she asked.

He shrugged, checking the scanners another time. “What do you mean?”

“You look awful,” she said, simply, referring to his messy, platinum hair and the grey bags under his brown eyes.

He had an immature smirk on his face. “That implies you enjoy my usual appearance.” That earned him a hard punch to the shoulder from the girl, who did not want anyone, especially him, to suspect her unmistakable physical attraction to him. He suppressed a yelp. “Some peacekeeper,” he hissed. That would bruise, but it brought him joy. _A negative reaction was still a reaction_ , he thought.

“I meant that you look like you haven’t slept,” she said. “You are aware that we’re going into an invasion, right? First rule of battle is to be well-rested.”

“Someone tried to kill me again on Coruscant last night. I couldn’t sleep,” he growled. “It becomes really difficult to rest when every time you close your eyes, an assassin lurks in the shadows.”

She didn’t seem surprised, though she had a look of sympathy. “Who was it?”

“Some changeling bounty hunter tried to poison my food. As for who hired her, I’d put my betting money on my father,” Ares sighed.

“Look at the bright side,” said Ahsoka. “On Geonosis, your only enemy will be the one shooting at you.”

He smirked. “That’s… one way of looking at it.”

“It’s time for our briefing,” announced Kenobi, leading the group of commanders to their main holotransmitter where Luminara, Yoda, Windu and Chancellor Palpatine were waiting for them. They went over their strategy.

“The factory is protected by a shield generator. Anakin, Ki Adi and I shall attempt a three-pronged attack through their defence lines to a staging area just short of the shield. Once we have landed, we shall knock out the shield generator. That is our primary target,” Kenobi explained.

“And do we know which Separatist general is leading the defence of Geonosis?” asked the Chancellor, making direct eye contact with Ares, who shuddered away at the intensity of the stare. The leader of the Republic had a strange feel to Ares. He shrugged it off. 

“Yes, Your Excellency,” said Skywalker. “For operations like these Count Dooku usually assigns land defences to his daughter and space battles to General Grievous. We’ve just broken past Grievous’ fleet. Our only obstacle is the young commander now. She and Poggle the Lesser are leading the Geonosians on the ground.”

“I see,” said Palpatine, not letting his eyes wander from Dooku’s son. “Is it not risky committing three generals to one area of the attack? If something went wrong, we could be dealt a disastrous blow to the Republic.”

“To ensure that rise again Geonosis does not, capture Poggle the Lesser we must,” explained Yoda.

“Well, as always, I leave the strategy to you, Master Jedi,” said Palpatine.

“Our thanks, Chancellor,” said Kenobi, sternly, having noticed the cold, silent encounter between his captain and the chancellor.

“May the Force be with you,” said the Chancellor and left. Ares hadn’t noticed the cold, tight feeling he had in his veins until the politician’s hologram had been switched off. He shook his head. He was just tired, like Ahsoka said. The Force was all over the place for him today.

Cody ran them all through with the detailed strategy. They were to rendezvous at the landing point at 0700 hours. The long battle was about to begin.

[][][]

“No sir, I wasn’t involved in the first assault of Geonosis,” said Cody as he and Ares escorted their general to his waiting gunship.

“You didn’t miss much,” replied Obi-Wan. “Last time, I was chained to a pole and attacked by several humongous monsters.”

Ares remembered that. 

_It was the middle of the night when the holotransmitter buzzed. Ares groaned loudly, thinking it was one of Pompeii’s dumb pranks, but then saw that it was calling from his father’s channel. “Yes, father,” he answered almost immediately._

_“Wake your sister,” said Dooku as he pressed some controls. The regal stature was replaced with a fighting arena. “I want you both to watch what transpires here, on Geonosis, today. It will be a momentous occasion.”_

_Ares had rolled out of bed, wrapped himself in his bed cover like a monk and plodded over to his sister’s bedroom a few corridors away. She was fast asleep. He walked in and, in true brotherly fashion, he shoved her over, pushed the pillows away and climbed in. He ignored her growling about invading her personal space._

_Looking around his sister’s room, he noticed she’d been busy. Books and papers were scattered everywhere. He found he was sitting on something, some blueprints for a new droid, and laid them down on the floor. He never understood why his sister insisted on using paper, rather than holograms. “Late night homework?” he asked, amused._

_“You’re a git,” she growled out from the depths of her blankets. “What do you want? It’s not even sunrise.”_

_It was so dark and cold on Raxus at night. He shivered. “Father says we have to watch this,” he said._

_“I don’t care what Father says! It’s three in the morning!” she barked at him and turned away from him, hoarding the sheets. The glare of the hologram and Ares’ rhythmic prodding forbade her from going back to sleep. She gave in and sat up, shoulder to shoulder with her intruder. Together they watched the Clone Wars begin. That had been exactly a week before Wodin’s death. A month before his treason. It seemed so long ago now. He had still been an apprentice and she had still been married._

_Perhaps Dooku had wanted them to watch the death of Jedi or maybe he knew that the Clone Wars would begin and he wanted his children to see it start. He must have known that the war would start on Geonosis. He had amassed an entire droid army for it, for Force sakes! It was astounding how little a son could know about his father._

“That sounds… entertaining,” said Cody, breaking Ares out of his thoughts.

“It was, for the Geonosians,” replied Kenobi before the doors of his gunship closed and they took off.

Ares and Cody boarded their own separate gunships. Their division into separate gunships was a new strategy. If someone was shot down, at least one of the commanding officers would survive to lead the rest of the battalion.

The gunships took off to heavy fire. The men inside could hear the neighbouring transports get shot down around them. This was the most terrifying part of an invasion. There was nothing they could do about their own demise. They just had to trust their pilots and the mistakes of their enemies.

Ares looked around his troops. They were hiding their fears well, but he could feel it, deep inside, curling and coiling. His Force senses thrived on fear and this closed space was rife with it. He suddenly felt so very strong. He breathed deeply, stopping all movement and focusing on the life around him. The pulsating, beating, scared pumps of life that was in each and every man in that gunship. The men’s fear absorbed into him. It became his fuel. New blood rushed into his veins.

“Ares! Get your tanks on the ground! The bugs are aiming for them!” Cody commanded on the commlink.

“Copy that, commander,” he replied and relayed the message to the pilots in his squadron of gunships.

“Have fun out there, boys!” His pilot said to them as the gunship touched the ground.

The young captain ignited his lightsabre and yelled out to his men. “Let’s fry those bugs!”

Not all the tanks made it to the ground and much of their battalion was missing. Ares spotted Cody and his gunships a few clicks away and ordered his men to march through to their position. The Geonosians were slathering them with fire.

“Ares? You’re alive. Good,” said Cody, sincerely.

“Where’s Kenobi?” Ares asked, deflecting an incoming green blast from one of the bugs.

“I don’t know,” Cody replied.

“Cody, he left before us. He should be here,” Ares said, the dread dawning upon him. This couldn’t be how the great Kenobi perished.

“Then find him,” Cody slapped the boy’s shoulder and proceeded to give out orders to the tanks.

Ares focused, feeling through the suffering and pain of the chaotic, loud battlefield. There were clones and bugs dying everywhere around him. He breathed in and out. Surely, if Kenobi could sometimes read his thoughts, Ares could find him.

He did. There he was, or his force signature at least, about 5 clicks east. “Waxer, Boil! Come with me! We’re going to get the general!” he yelled out. They obeyed and the three of them ran through the scorched and bloody front lines, dodging or deflecting the blaster fire from the bugs and droids until they reached a downed gunship.

The three pressed their backs against the gunship, catching their breath. Waxer and Boil pushed the doors open and inside they saw the corpses of dead clones and Kenobi, who was alive but in a bad shape.

“Waxer, Boil! Boy, am I glad to see you! Chopper and I are the only ones left alive!” He said. Waxer and Boil lifted them up, but then a Geonosian bug flew in screeching. A red blade ripped open its back, squirting its yellow blood everywhere. “Ares! Never thought I’d be happier to see you, my friend,” said Obi-Wan.

Ares too didn’t think he’d feel so much relief at seeing the Jedi Master alive. “We got you, general,” Ares said. “Move out, boys. I’ll cover your backs from the bugs.” They made their slow way through the raging battlefield, with Ares fighting off their predators at the back and force choking any out-flankers. The wings of the bugs were proving to be challenging adversaries.

“General! Are you injured?” Cody asked, once they got back to their make-shift base.

“Nothing too serious. What’s the status here, Cody?” Kenobi said, as Waxer placed him on the ground against a crate of supplies. A medic rushed to the general.

“Not good, sir. We’ve got no air cover, two generals on the ground beyond our position and a mess of bugs surrounding us. Commander Pallas was more than prepared for our attack sir. She anticipated our every move,” Cody reported.

“I’m sure General Skywalker and General Mundi will make it to our position. We just have to make sure we’re still here when they arrive,” replied Kenobi, trying to hide his pain.

[][][]

Ares was fighting on the front lines, trying to get as many of those disgusting bugs as he could. Why did the Separatists always choose to ally themselves with such ugly creatures? The battalion was holding out fine until Cody got shot in the shoulder.

“Captain!” a sergeant called out to Ares. “The commander’s been shot! He’s asking to speak with you!”

“What?” Ares almost missed a blast coming his way with that news. He ran for the area with the wounded men. “Cody, you alright?”

“Just a scratch,” the clone mumbled as the medic tended to his profusely bleeding shoulder. “Ares, the battalion is under your command…” Cody gripped Ares’ shoulder. “Listen to me… there’s nowhere for us to go… We must defend this position and wait until Skywalker and Mundi get here… Keep those guns firing at the enemy… ignore their canons they’re behind the shield generator anyway... we don’t have enough men to take it.”

“Sir, he’s losing blood quickly. He’s in no condition to remain on the battlefield,” said the medic.

“But the battle!” Cody grasped. “The battalion!”

“I’ll keep them safe, commander,” said Ares and then turned to the medic. “Get him into that gunship,” Ares said and pointed to one that was empty and serving as cover. “It’ll keep him away from those darned bugs.”

“Yes, sir!”

The canons were already doing what Cody wanted them. “Hold your positions! Shoot to defend, not attack! Reinforcements are on their way, boys!” He wasn’t sure about the last part, but some morale wouldn’t hurt their situation. 

Ares took Cody’s binoculars to assess the battlefield ahead. His sister had placed the bugs in the front lines and the droids were nowhere to be seen. The base and their canons were being protected by a massive red energy shield. The bugs could fly and couldn’t be zapped with droid poppers. So where were her droids?

Ares scanned the rear of their position and almost choked. _This was just_ great, he thought to himself. “All canons, fire at point 169!” He ordered. Puzzled, the gunners turned their canons as ordered. They fired and a rock avalanche came toppling down to the terrain below.

“Ares! What are… you doing?!” Kenobi yelled stifling his pain and seeing the bizarre order.

“There’s a sneak attack platoon of droids forming behind us,” said Ares.

That was one problem solved. The bloody battle raged on for hours on end. Command was more difficult than Ares anticipated. Waving a lightsabre on the front lines was one thing but standing at the back and commanding men to go and die was another.

“Huh, fancy seeing you in charge,” Skywalker’s voice jested as he came running up with the remainder of the 501st legion and Mundi’s forces too. Mundi brought a few more tanks. “It is a low day for the Republic when Dooku’s son leads the invasions.”

“Where have you been?” Ares ignoring the jest. He had heard it so many times now that he was bored of the sting it inflicted.

“We took a slight detour and took out a fortress on our way here,” said Ahsoka from Anakin’s side.

“That’s nice. I’m only fighting a war over here with draining resources and no air support. Of course, you two should get distracted by a fancy fortress,” Ares growled at the pair.

“Calm down, kid,” said Skywalker. “We’re here now. Besides, that was Pallas’ strategy. She was going to use the droids at those fortresses to overrun us from behind. So, really, we saved the day.”

“From a certain point of view,” mumbled Ares.

Skywalker clicked his commlink. “Admiral, we’re on the breaking point! We’ve got to get some fighters down here!”

“You’re in luck, general. I happen to have one squadron available,” said Yularen from the commlink.

“Why is it that when I ask him for things, he has nothing to give because other areas of the invasion need those resources, but when you ask for it, he suddenly has a squadron available?” Ares said, grunting.

“Because… favouritism,” said Skywalker as the bombers flew overhead and vaporised their approaching enemies.

“It’s a beautiful sight,” said Ahsoka.

“We brought reinforcements, captain. You’ve been here longer than any of the commanders present and you know your sister better than anyone. What do you think we should we do with the troops?” said Skywalker.

Ares was surprised at the sudden responsibility Skywalker placed on him. He decided not to question Skywalker’s sudden generosity – it was rare enough. He beckoned CL-Y forward and made her bring up a holomap of the battlefield. “Ok… I’ve been thinking about this for a while now… Well, the enemy forces are hidden behind a shield. We need to take a small squad through the shield, as close as possible to their gun placements. From there, you’ll be able to temporarily jam their scanners, so they are unable to target the incoming tanks. Once the tanks knock out the shield, we can bring the rest of the troops in with the remaining gunships.”

“Consider it done, captain. Ahsoka and I will lead the squadron,” said Skywalker, grinning.

Ares’ eye twitched. “That’s it? No questions? No worldly moral-Jedi additions? You’re just going to take the ex-Seppie’s orders?”

“Don’t get used to it,” said Skywalker. “You’ve been on the front lines all day. You know the enemy better than me or Master Mundi. Master Obi-Wan and Cody are out of commission and that makes you next in rank of this battalion. Besides, if putting Dooku’s spawn in charge works for the Seppies, I wonder if it will work for us too.”

“There’s better ways to experiment with that than the breaking point of an important military campaign!” Ares roared at the man, who ignored him.

“Let’s go, Snips,” said Skywalker. Ahsoka gave Ares a confused shrug and followed her master.

Somehow, his idea worked. Skywalker’s squadron disabled the enemy scanners and the tanks destroyed the shields. Unfortunately, the enemies’ command bridge was led by a tactical droid holding a hologram of Pallas. She was in the factory hiding her skin, as usual.

Skywalker sliced the droid in half and took the hologram.

“Greetings, General Skywalker,” said the young commander. “I see you can chop droids very proficiently, but no matter. I have more.”

“Your base has been taken by the Republic, commander. Your father’s vile factory will be destroyed very soon,” Anakin promised.

“You can try. What you faced here was only a small fraction of the Confederate forces. If I was in your position, seeing such heavy loses, I would retreat.” Her wicked smile rejoiced in the Jedi’s despair. 

Having just cut down the last of the droids, Ahsoka watched the encounter from some distance. Pallas had the uncanny ability to infiltrate the minds of her adversaries and grate them from the inside. She liked to spark rage. Rage made one unfocused. Being unfocused made one make mistakes.

“Hm, I imagine that losing living creatures like clones must be much harder than droids. How long does it take to manufacture one? About 10 years? That’s a long time to grow to die. It takes us about seven minutes in total to create a single droid and every minute produces hundreds, thousands. Consider those odds when you charge at my factory,” she said, coolly. “Consider those odds when you fight the war.”

Skywalker crushed the hologram and threw the pieces away. She was getting inside of his head. How was it possible to frame a victory into a defeat so easily? 

[][][]

“Come on, Master,” said Anakin, proffering Kenobi an arm. “The medic ship has arrived to take you away.”

“Trying to get rid of me so soon?” Kenobi leaned on his former pupil as he helped the Jedi to the gunship. Ares was assisting Cody and Mundi could walk on his own. Ahsoka came up to Skywalker for them to brag about their day’s kill count.

“Heard you were quite good out there, captain,” Cody said, smirking. “Looks like there’s hope for you yet, Shiny.”

“Ha. Ha,” Ares deadpanned. “You left me no choice, commander. Nearly dying on me.”

“Did you enjoy it? Command?”

“Not even a little bit. Get better and take your job back, commander,” replied Ares and that made Cody chuckle.

“Look after my boys while I’m out, captain,” said Cody. “I expect to have them back in _shiny_ condition.”

“Cody? Having a sense of humour? That bug must have hit your head or something,” Ares replied. He boarded the ship. The gunship took off and Ares remembered that he was going to be serving under Skywalker for the rest of the campaign. _Just great_ , he thought.

“Come on, kid. We need to plan the next phase of the assault,” said Skywalker.

[][][]

They were going to have company. Master Unduli was bringing her forces to their position. Ahsoka had been given the opportunity by Skywalker to brief their men. Ares knew the orders but decided to watch from the side-lines purely for his own amusement.

“This bridge is our first waypoint,” said Ahsoka to her men. “Focus your fire on the gun placements here and here—”

“Because it’s only after we neutralize the guns that we can push for the factory,” Anakin interrupted.

“I was…” Ahsoka glared at her master and then resigned her frustration, conscious of her audience. “Yes. We can push for the factory. Now, expect stiff resistance from—”

“And don’t forget to top off your energy cells and ration packs. Once we leave, there will be no resupply. Anything else, Ahsoka?” He interrupted again.

“No. I think you’ve covered pretty much everything… in _my_ briefing,” Ahsoka said, sarcastically. Ares had to hide his laughter behind his metal hand. This was a comedy sketch.

“Alright. Squad dismissed,” Skywalker said.

Once the troops were gone, Ares approached the two Jedi clapping his hands slowly. “Thank you so much for the show, guys! Most entertaining. Great comedy.” Ahsoka sent him a glare.

“You know master, my briefings might go better if you didn’t interrupt me every time I try to—” said Ahsoka.

In true Skywalker fashion, he interrupted her right in the middle of an intervention about his interruptions. “I wasn’t interrupting. I was trying to help you.” And so, they went on arguing. Ares took a seat to get a good view.

“Enjoying yourself, are you?” said Master Unduli, coming up behind the young captain.

“There’s few joys in a war, general. Mouthy padawans and stubborn Jedi masters is one of them. I thrive on discord,” replied Ares, standing up to salute the Jedi Master. She had a padawan with her, who was a mirialan like her.

“Barriss Offee, at your service,” she said. The padawan made it her custom to bow to everyone, which Ares found odd and uncomfortable.

“Uh… I’m Captain Ares,” Ares offered her a handshake, which she accepted.

“What are they fighting about?” Luminara asked.

“Feel free to interrupt them, general, it’s about nothing important,” Ares said.

“If you two are finished with your little discussion, we do have a factory to destroy,” said Luminara. Introductions were made, greetings exchanged, and they got down to planning. Luminara proposed a bold strategy that involved the padawans infiltrating the catacombs underneath the factory, which was opposed by both Skywalker and Ares.

“Hang on, who agreed on that?” Skywalker asked, opposed. “Walking into that factory could be suicide.” Ahsoka glared at him with the intensity of a teenage daughter irritated by an over-protective dad.

“Not if you, I and Captain Ares are successful at holding Poggle’s attention,” said Luminara.

“Those catacombs won’t be empty, generals. They’re build for the bug’s nests. If something were to happen, our whole strategy would collapse,” Ares argued. Ahsoka glared at him too, for good measure.

“That’s a good point, captain,” Skywalker said.

“Master, I can do this,” Ahsoka implored. “I’ve had riskier assignments.”

“But unlike Barriss you aren’t prepared for this mission,” Skywalker countered.

“Not to worry,” spoke Luminara. “My padawan is reliable. She can lead them both.”

“We’ll be in and out, Master,” said Barriss.

“It never goes that way,” said Ares, shaking his head and crossing his arms. Under the table, Ahsoka stepped on his foot and pressed hard to get him to shut up.

“See? Dependable Barriss will get us through. Don’t worry, Master. As you well know, I can follow orders,” said Ahsoka. Ares wondered what was making her so determined to go into this danger. It must have been the favour that Skywalker had shown him earlier in the battle that made her feel left out, as if she had not done enough.

“It’s decided then,” said Luminara. “We’ll monitor your progress on these chronometers.” She gave one to each master and padawan. “Three, two, one, mark.”

“Let’s get going. After you, Barriss,” Ahsoka suggested, grabbing a backpack of grenades. The two padawans ran off.

“Be cautious!” Ares yelled out to them.

Ahsoka looked at him from a distance. “Stop doing a Kenobi!” She yelled to him.

“I will if you stop doing a Skywalker!” He yelled back. While the jibe might have amused Unduli, the real Skywalker gave the captain a fierce glare. “Don’t give me that look. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Ares countered.

“Whatever,” Skywalker shrugged it off. “We have to make a bold move if we’re to draw them out of the factory and keep their attention on us and not the padawans. The best way to do that is to march our troops straight up the middle, parade style. They can’t resist that.”

“With no cover?” Luminara questioned.

“We have to make it tempting,” countered Skywalker. “Prepare the men,” he told Ares.

[][][]

“What do you mean?” Pallas was rarely angry, but if there was one person who could make her furious it was her father. “Victory is almost in my grasp. You can’t just… take it away from me!”

“Do not be so short-sighted as to believe I would take from you your victory,” Dooku spoke. “I have received a request to remove you from the war effort by Poggle the Lesser personally. You’ve demonstrated a lack of interest for his interests. You placed his people on the front lines when you had ample number of droids. He is not pleased by this choice.”

“I didn’t know he cared so much for his bugs,” Pallas said. Warlords rarely cared for casualties.

“He doesn’t, but you forget that he doesn’t know you very well. He is forced to judge you by your actions against his people,” said Dooku. “They have been less than favourable.”

“It was a strategic choice!” Pallas defended. “You can’t do this to me! I’ve laid plans! I’ve almost won!”

“I know, but you have misjudged the politics of the situation. Perhaps so much time in the battlefield surrounded by too many droids and too few living creatures has clouded your understanding of this delicate art. A little time in Parliament would do you good, I think.”

“Parliament? What am I supposed to do in Parliament?” asked Pallas, aghast. 

“You will stand in for me as Speaker of the Assembly. My master has need of me elsewhere and so I am indisposed to open the next session. I was going to postpone it, but now that I have a daughter who is temporarily unemployed,” said Dooku, making Pallas wince with embarrassment, “she can lead it.”

“Fine. As you wish,” she said, curtly. _Her first strategic mistake of the war_ , she thought. She knew it would happen eventually, but she didn’t expect it to be so embarrassing. She felt her insides crush together.

[][][]

They started their parade march up the bridge. As they did, the small speck of a ship with the entourage of vulture droids sped off to the skies.

“Pallas is gone. I can feel her on that ship,” said Ares to his two generals. “She’s turned tail and run.”

“But why? We haven’t even begun the battle,” asked Luminara.

“Who cares? She just made destroying this factory a little easier,” said Skywalker.

“And another mission more difficult,” said Luminara.

“We can’t worry about that now,” said Ares, igniting his lightsabre. A whole battalion of fresh droids had been dispatched to counter their assault and were now coming at them.

“That’s a lot of droids,” said Ares.

“Well it is a droid factory,” said Luminara.

“As long as we can destroy them faster than they can make them, we’ll come out on top,” said Skywalker.

“I love your simple logic, Skywalker,” replied Luminara, amused.

“Here we go!” Skywalker said, commencing the battle. Troopers took their positions and started firing. Cannons blasted. Ares mediated between defending his troopers and cutting down the droids.

This distraction battle raged on for hours, but the wave of droids was destroyed. Then the super-tanks came. Their impenetrable armour made them indestructible.

“Green light! The padawans did it!” Skywalker exclaimed checking his chronometer.

“So, where’s the big explosion?” Ares breathed, exhausted from the battle. Just as he said that, the tanks opened fire on them, catapulting massive energy blasts and sand storming the entire area. “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” he said, once the sand cleared.

“Patience, captain,” said Skywalker, grinning. “So much for doing a Kenobi.”

“What do we do about those tanks then, Skywalker?” Luminara asked.

“Rex, tell the men to fall back,” he commanded.

“But sir, you can’t be asking us to turn tail and run?” The clone captain was appalled.

“I’m not asking you to run, Rex. I want to draw those thank out one the bridge,” he said, putting a backpack with grenades on his back. “Ares, you’re with me. Master, you have command of the troops. We’ll draw them out and rip the rug from under them.”

“I see what you mean. Good luck, boys,” said Luminara.

“This day just keeps getting better and better,” groaned Ares, clipping the backpack of explosives onto his back.

He and Skywalker descended to the underbelly of the bridge. They planted their bombs whilst dangling above nearly certain peril. Once planted, they pushed themselves up onto the bridge.

“Bombs away, general,” Ares said. Skywalker pressed the detonator and the entire droid battalion fell into the gorge, their impenetrable shields becoming useless rubble.

“Where are they? Those bombs are going to go off any second now,” said Skywalker.

The mouth of the factory opened, and another legion of droids marched out.

“I don’t know about you, but we’re all out of bridge here, Skywalker,” said Ares. The droids started firing. Skywalker’s commlink started buzzing and he answered it, but with the sound of a raging battle Ares couldn’t hear the contents of the message. He saw Skywalker yelling in panic at his commlink moments before the factory exploded and a piece of flaming debris came plummeting directly at Ares.

[][][]

Ares woke up in a panic. He hated hospitals. He searched for his lightsabre and relaxed when his metal fingers found the cold, curved hilt. If he had it, he was safe. A Kaminoan nurse came in.

“Welcome back, Captain Ares,” she said.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You were hurt in the Battle of Geonosis. You spent a week in a vat to recover,” she informed him.

Ares groaned. His head felt heavy. “Wait… Do you know? Commander Tano, is she-?”

“General Kenobi mentioned that you might express interest in Commander Tano’s wellbeing. Yes, she’s fine. She survived the explosion. She’s awake in the neighbouring ward if you wish to visit,” said the nurse. “Now that you are awake, you are cleared to go.”

Ares dressed in fresh clothes, grabbed his weapon and left the ward. He never hated hospitals more in his life. He reached the ward with the names “Tano” and “Offee” scribbled on the nametag of the door. He heard girlish giggles inside and knocked.

“Come in!” a familiar voice came.

“Nice to see you’re alive,” he said, masking the joyous emotion he had in his belly. He remembered his last moments on Geonosis very vaguely. One moment the factory was blown up and flaming debris was plummeting and the next he was here. He had had no time to feel fear then, but now he could feel joy.

“I can say the same for you,” said Ahsoka, sitting on her bed. She and Barriss had been playing a card game. “Come here, captain. Sit down. Watch me annihilate Barriss.”

“Speak for yourself, Ahsoka,” said the girl, showing that she was not the stuck-up formal type of padawan that her first impression implied. “Captain, prepare to watch your commander get outcheated.”

“She’s not my commander. If she was, maybe she’d know how to cheat,” Ares said as he took a seat beside Ahsoka, who shoved him, but in a way that said she was glad he was here. It was almost affection. “I take that the Invasion of Geonosis is over?” he asked.

“Factory is destroyed. Poggle is behind bars and Geonosis will never rise again,” Ahsoka said, jubilant. “The one disappointment is that Pallas is still at large.”

“Yeah, well. She usually shows up somewhere she’s not supposed to be,” said Ares.

Ahsoka patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be ok.”

“You can’t promise that,” responded Ares.

“Why do you have to argue with everything I say?” asked Ahsoka, exasperated.

“It’s my job,” said Ares.

“Ahsoka, Ares wasn’t there during the mind-controlling parasite infestation,” Barriss said, looking over her cards.

“What infestation?” Ares asked, confused.

“Do you like hearing horror stories?” Ahsoka asked.

“Hm… well, I’ve heard of you, a horror story in and of yourself. Go on then, how horrible can it be?” said Ares.

Ahsoka looked at him with a deadpan and then back at her new friend. “Barriss, do you see the insubordination I have to deal with on a daily basis?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to COMMENT and leave kudos.


	8. Trespassers

#  **Chapter 8 – Trespassers**

A Separatist shuttle sailed through the border security port of Raxus with an escort squad of vigilant vulture droids. On board, the young commander was receiving a transmission from her father about her new position as the temporary Speaker of the Assembly.

“Remember,” her father’s stern voice said. “It is your duty to command their respect. You have been playing with droids all this time and they are unquestioningly obedient. Politicians are not so… docile.”

“Obviously,” said the commander, a little annoyed by how her father was patronizing her. ‘Playing with droids’? She was fighting his damned war! He made it sound like she was dressing up dolls. The count seemed to read this trail of thought.

“This position is the third highest rank in the Separatist government. Do no abuse my trust,” Dooku reinforced.

“When have I ever abused your trust, Father?” Pallas said. Her father was not entertained by it. She pressed on. “What is it that you fear will happen in this Parliamentary session?”

“I fear nothing. My only concern is that should you fail to keep the senators in their place, it will not be soon that I entrust more responsibilities into your hands,” Dooku warned.

A droid entered Pallas’ compartment. “We will be arriving shortly, commander.” Pallas waved it away.

“I must go now, father. I will keep your words in mind,” she said. Dooku nodded and ended the transmission. “Could do with fewer threats though, dad. It’s almost like I back-stabbed you,” she said to herself with an eyeroll.

The spaceship touched down in the hanger outside the Parliamentary building. She peeked through her window and saw that a small welcome party had been organised to greet her. She recognised a few faces in the welcome party. There was Mina Bonterri, who Pallas had spent her whole childhood lovingly calling Aunt Mina, and Bec Lawise, a great orator who she had seen on the holonet often.

The doors opened, the droids clanked, and the young commander stepped out of the ship.

“Welcome home, Commander Pallas of Serenno!” said Aunt Mina, who was the first to greet her off the ship. “My colleagues and I wished to give you a warm, Raxillian welcome.”

“Thank you, Senator Bonterri,” she said. “It warms the heart to come back from war to such affection.”

“Allow me to make the introductions,” Aunt Mina offered. “This is Senator Bec Lawise of the Siniteen, Senator Amita Fonti of Gossam, Representative Lan Hill of the Banking Clan and—"

“May I introduce myself to Her Excellency?” said a green skinned woman with vibrant red eyes. She managed to somehow push aside Senator Bonterri without even touching her. Pallas watched her surrogate aunt look at the young politician with amusement. The young, arrogant woman was making a fool of herself. “My name is Voe Atell and I represent the interests of the Corporate Alliance. At your service, Your Excellency.” She did a customary curtsy and, somehow, with her words managed to curl an arm around Pallas in sisterhood. Pallas physically shrugged, beginning to feel claustrophobic.

“Pleasure to meet you, Senator Atell—,” said Pallas, being immediately interrupted.

“We heard that you lost the Battle of Geonosis. Our new factory has been destroyed. Will this be an issue that you will discuss in the session?” the representative of the Banking Clan challenged. He had not bothered with manners or polite curtseys.

“I didn’t—” Pallas began to defend herself, only to be interrupted again.

“Why isn’t Count Dooku leading this session? Where is he?” asked Senator Fonti.

“He is indisposed. My father is an old man… he needs respite from politics and war,” said Pallas, lying with ease. That had been the reason her father insisted she give them for his absence, even though it was difficult to think of the man in any way incapacitated, old age or not.

“That hardly seems likely from such a statesman as you father, Your Excellency. Someone as strong and in the prime of his health as Count Dooku?” Senator Bec Lawise said and then gave a curt bow. “Please do send him our best wishes.”

“Thank you, Senator—”

“What does the loss of Geonosis means for our profits? Is our army on the brink?!”

Another senator’s voice broke out. “The Separatists will never be on the brink. We are too mighty! To suggest that is treason!”

“Your Excellency do tell us of your military exploits. We’ll all love to hear them.”

The voices all just swam into one melting pot of stress and boiled with a temper inside Pallas’ head. A moment longer and steam would have poured out from her. It was her surrogate aunt’s voice that rung clear through the pounding chatter and silenced everyone.

“I think Her Excellency needs some time to refresh after a long journey,” said Aunt Mina and, without waiting for a response from them, pulled the young commander along with her. “Come, Your Excellency, I shall escort you to your father’s offices for you to rest before the session begins.”

Pallas had never loved that woman more. She wordlessly obeyed with her guard droids in tow and left the welcome party behind. They walked quickly and in silence for the offices, with random politicians stopping to bow and greet the young war hero. Once they entered the office and all her droid guards filed in, Pallas pushed the doors shut and pressed on them for a second longer, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you, Aunt Mina. That was a disaster,” she said, finally letting go of the barricades and coming up to the senator to embrace her tightly. “I was a disaster.”

“Now, now, dear,” Mina hugged her back and patted the young commander’s head. Mina was never patronizing; she was always a comfort. “I’ve seen worse. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Father warned me it would be difficult, but I didn’t think I would be ambushed as soon as I stepped out of the bloody ship,” she said, finally letting go. “It’s so good to see you, Aunt Mina.”

“You too, my dear. A Commander of the Separatist Army! My, my! Your father must be so proud. Lux and Pompeii have been keeping an ear to the holonet for the past few months. Ryloth was a very impressive victory, my dear. And Felucia too! Such great accomplishments,” said Mina.

“I wish politicians were half as easy to fight as Jedi and clones. I’m going to be eaten alive in there. They were all so… different,” said Pallas. “Droids, clones and Jedi typically only ever want one thing at a time. How can I fight this hydra?”

“I’ll give you a little clue, my dear: even the hydra can be a tamed beast, with enough patience and training,” said the senator with a smile, touching the girl’s cheek with motherly affection. “You’ll figure it out. You’re a smart girl after all.”

Pallas grinned at the older woman and looked around the room. She had never been in her father’s Parliamentary office. ‘Bare’ was the word that came to mind. There was nothing here that truly mattered: pretty vases, plush sofas, bottles of water and a throne like chair for the count, but it was a room full of air.

“When does the session begin?” she asked.

“In about two hours, my dear. There’s a bathroom over there. Are you hungry? Should I have them bring up some—” said Mina.

“No, Aunt Mina. I’m not hungry. I assure you the droid army feeds well,” Pallas stopped her. She knew from experience that if there was the slightest suspicion in Aunt Mina that someone around her was hungry, they would immediately be forced to eat. Rebellion was futile and resistance was fruitless.

“Alright. If there is anything you need, remember, you’re the boss while your father is away. Anything can be provided,” said Mina. Pallas laughed. How she wished that was true.

“Thank you, Aunt Mina. I think I’ll just read up on some of the bills today… and figure out an adequate answer to the question ‘what the hell happened on Geonosis?’” said Pallas, taking a seat in her father’s throne-like chair. _It felt powerful, in an empty, disillusioned sort of way_ , she thought.

“Very well,” said Mina. “I’ll let you rest then, Your Excellency,” she said that with a smile and Pallas returned an eye roll.

“I’m… not a fan of that title,” she said. Mina left chuckling.

Pallas sat down with her reading.

[][][]

Reading had not helped her much. Her first Parliamentary session began with as much success as her welcome party. As soon as she tapped the hammer, bringing the Parliament into session, the Banking Clan representative stood up and, point blank, made demands.

“With the loss of Geonosis, we must equip ourselves with more troops to win this war!” he declared.

The debates lasted for hours. These politicians spoke about deregulating banks, asking the Corporations for massive, unpayable loans and lower interest rates. The worst part was that Pallas, despite knowing what the role of a Speaker of the Assembly meant, didn’t know where to jump in with these verbally violent duels. Battlefields were not half as vicious as the politicians in this room. She had half a mind to put blasters in their hands and send them to the frontlines to fight the clones. The war would be over sooner and, not to mention, significantly cheaper.

At some point, with the debates going nowhere, the commander bolted up from her high seat and demanded that they leave this session for another day. They were too hot headed and irrational to make any progress about bank deregulation. Surprisingly, they agreed and dispersed.

She made eye contact with Mina Bonterri who smiled encouragingly at Pallas’ dour, depressed shake of the head. “What a disaster,” she told herself, sighing at the ceiling and leaned back. She never thought she could miss a war so much.

“Is our fearless leader having difficulties with the angry mob?” a familiar voice jerked Pallas out of her dejected state of mind.

“Pompeii!” She swivelled in her seat to see the Zygerrian, cat-like boy standing behind her. Her droid guards had prohibited him from approaching her too closely, but she closed their distance and wrapped him in her embrace. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I’ve come to greet Her Excellency,” he said, grinning. “Do I need to kiss your feet now or something?”

“Tell him, yes. I want to see him do it,” another familiar voice said from behind the huge, furry frame. Lux Bonterri appeared and welcomed the embrace of the girl with fervour.

“Now this is the welcome party I wanted, but never got,” she said with a smile. It would be impossible to describe how happy she was to see her two friends. With them, she didn’t need to play any horrible games. With them, there was safety and peace for a troubled conscience. The suffocating pressure was gone even by the sight of them. 

Pompeii feigned offence. “What do you call this? You’re getting it right now, princess.”

“You got abducted by politicians before we could give your our welcome,” said Lux. “We’ll be abducting you now before they can have you back.”

“Where?”

The answer was a bar in downtown Raxulon with very expensive beverages, but it was a place where people of high rank could go and not be terrorised by publicity or espionage. The bar manager of the establishment was not of that impression about these three teenagers.

“I’m sorry. We don’t serve underaged,” he told them at the entrance in the native Raxillian dialect, which the three friends were fluent in. Pallas was more than happy to leave and go home, but the boys would have none of it.

“Do you know who this is?” Pompeii barked at the man, pointing at Pallas. “This is the daughter of Count Dooku! She’s the third highest ranked officer in the Confederacy right now!” Pallas burned with earth-swallowing embarrassment. She hadn’t felt like this in a staggeringly long time. 

The bar manager took a closer look at the girl. The highest ranked of Pallas’ four droid bodyguards approached Pallas closer. “Is there a problem, Commander?” it spoke in a baritone voice.

“N-no, sergeant,” she told the droid, burning even more with embarrassment, pushing the muscled metal away with her skinny-hand. The droid obeyed and stood back.

“Commander Pallas! By force! Of course, of course. Please come in!” said the manager.

“Nepotism does extraordinary things,” Lux whispered to her as they walked in.

She smirked at him. “Oh yeah, underage drinking is purely a nepotistic vice,” she replied.

The manager ushered them in himself and gave a full, comprehensive list of the best alcohols in the house. She made the boys order the finest and herself settled with something that wouldn’t go to the head. Friends are fun and all, but integrity had to be kept intact in times of war.

Pompeii was not pleased by this. “What? No. That’s bullshit. You’re drinking for two now. Order a spirit!”

“What do you mean ‘drinking for two’?” she asked.

Lux stepped in, always the diplomat. “He means as Speaker and Commander.”

Pompeii rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever,” he said, looking away from Pallas. The girl sighed and placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, rubbing it gently.

“I miss him too, buddy. I’m willing to bet that I miss Ares more than you do, but he’s not the same person we remember. He’s… different,” Pallas spoke, softly. “He’s chosen his path and there’s nothing that can be done about that.” Pompeii sighed, took her hand and squeezed it. He missed his old friend. The Zygerrian could spend only so much time having intellectually esoteric conversations without punching something or someone.

Seeing the contact, Lux spoke to break it. He raised his drink. “How about a toast?” he asked.

To the surprise of no one, the Zygerrian immediately lifted his drink “To the Confederacy! To Count Dooku!” he said, smiling at the girl. Lux agreed raising his own and Pallas had no choice but succumb. She hated when people toasted to her father.

The night erupted into a fountain of booze and then more booze. They were just kids having fun and spending as much of a rich father’s wallet as was economically possible in this bar.

“Come on, one more drink, Pal,” Pompeii begged the girl, the boozing having unlocked parts of his personality that Pallas and Lux didn’t want to see again. The Zygerrian certainly overdid it. Pallas had her droids call a speeder and haul him home, grateful that their metal could withstand the Zygerrian’s sharp adolescent claws and teeth.

Lux and Pallas watched him get dragged off.

“He’s a menace to society,” said Pallas.

“There’s one friend in every group,” said Lux, his voice hazy and boozy. To prove his point, Pompeii howled at the moon in protest of the droids. “Hey, Pompeii! Are you at big cat or a big dog?” Lux yelled at him.

“I’ll be a kriffing giraffe if I can have another drink!” He yelled back at the senator’s son. The droids roughly shoved him on the speeder.

“Make sure he gets home safe, unit CD417 and 418,” Pallas said, swaying on the spot and holding onto the Bonterri boy for stability, which, given his own intoxication, shouldn’t have been a good idea.

“Roger, roger!” They responded.

“Hey, Lux, don’t get luxy, I mean lucky with Pal, pal,” said Pompeii, laughing raucously.

“That’s literally the worst joke anyone has ever come up with,” said Pallas.

“Please, get him out of here,” Lux told the droids. They drove off with Pompeii screeching drunken obscenities. The whole street probably heard them.

“You ok?” Pallas asked the boy.

“Yeah… I’m ok,” he said. “That was a lot, though. Let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed,” she nodded. Another speeder, driven by Pallas’ other two droids, arrived to take them home. They lived close enough to each other to share it. The droids drove on as the two teenagers sat in the backseat continuing to laugh and joke off the effects of the booze.

“…and then he just said ‘you, inexperienced 16 year old who’s only been here five minutes, you’re in charge now. You lead the army. I’m going to go kill a Jedi!’ A single Jedi, Lux! On a ship that could give birth to frigates. Are you kidding me?! And then I get kriff when he loses the battle!” Pallas yelled. Lux laughed, drunkenly.

They arrived at their homes. They had lived across the street from one another for the majority of their lives. On the right was the Bonterri’s hospitable mansion, warm and luscious, with six neighbouring properties on its side. On the left was the dark, formidable fortress, spiked with barbed fences and guarded by droids, that was the Head of State’s residence. Geographic proximity had forged their lifelong friendship. It had been their childhood’s greatest pleasure that their homes were across the street from one another. As children, Pallas and Ares would often sneak past the droid guards and infiltrate the Bonterri home. They had always been welcomed by the Bonterri family. It was a significantly more enjoyable occupation than the dull droll of tutors who barely registered that they were speaking to empty desks.

“What are you thinking about?” Lux asked his friend as they stood on the road, their respective homes before them.

“Just… how we used to ditch school to go to your backyard,” Pallas admitted. The booze was unhinging her filter. He could have asked her any question in that moment, and she would have given him the truth.

It was dark, past midnight. Her droid bodyguards were parking the speeder and Pompeii was probably wreaking drunken havoc in his own home. Pallas and Lux were alone, so very drunk.

“I love you.” His mouth spoke the words that his brain had expressly forbidden him to say when he had been sober. Liquid courage was the worst kind of bravery. “Pallas… listen to me. Listen to me. I couldn’t do anything when you were married to your Admiral. But he’s dead now and I need you to know that I love you,” he spoke with drunken sincerity and his words were jumbled with booze. She watched him with the passive horror of watching a cruiser collapse and break into pieces. “I have loved you since we were children climbing apple trees and I know you feel something for me too.”

“You’re drunk,” she said, looking down at his boots. “Go home, Lux. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m honest,” he defended. “Booze doesn’t lie!”

She sighed and reached up to touch his cheek. His grey eyes were desperate, full of a longing to be loved. She knew that feeling well. Their chilly breaths mingled together in the cold night air. He crushed their lips together, putting as much feeling as he could in that kiss. She tasted bitter and rough and, for the briefest of moments, dipping into the temptation, she kissed him back.

Then she heard the clank of a battle droid. Two hands pushed on his chest and shoved him away. The look on her face was horrified, at herself more than anything.

“I’m sorry, Lux,” she said, earnest and sombre. “I can’t do this right now.”

“All of this because of a dead man,” he said, looking at the ground, physically unable to look at her. “You can’t love a corpse forever. He’s not coming back! He can’t love you back!”

She closed her eyes and tried to bring up the proper words from her brain. They seemed so cloudy and distant. The booze pounded. “I’m not… Now is not the time—”

“He was thrice your age! He was a 40-year-old man with grey hair who drank old-men drinks and smoked from a pipe and did old-man things!” Lux screamed at her, the booze boiling in his brain. “You couldn’t have loved him! Must you obey your father in everything?! It’s like you have no thoughts of your own! You’re like another one of his mindless, obedient droids… you’re ordered, and you obey. You’re ordered to marry, and you obey! Think for yourself for once!” When he finished shouting, he breathed harshly and his lungs heaved with his fury.

She gave him a moment to cool down and herself a moment to construct her words. “Think of me like that, Lux.” She left him then, crossing the threshold of her father’s property and slamming the gate closed.

The boy stood on that road, drunk, shattered at the cruelty that he had inflicted upon himself. How could a boy so smart act so stupidly?

Pallas closed the front door and slid to the ground. She buried her face in her arms and wept. Lux had been her first and closest friend. When she was a little girl and new neighbours had moved into the property across the road with a bright boy who wanted to be her friend, she had been the happiest person in the Outer Rim. She hadn’t meant to be so cruel to him. The booze pumping through her veins didn’t help.

Chime. “Daughter, how fares the war?” _Oh, not you, not now_ , she thought angrily. 

“Mother, I just want to be alone right now,” she said, not lifting her head.

Chime. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do? Are you hurt?” Pallas knew gonk droids with more emotional intelligence than her mother!

“Mother, please… switch off. I don’t… I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she said as she trudged up the stairs.

Chime. “Ok, darling. Initiating sleep mode.”

“Thank the Force,” Pallas whispered. With her mother on sleep mode, all the service droids of the house were shut off, the power was out and even the security droids were off – a price she was willing to pay for solitude.

She thought few things could hurt more than the feeling in her chest did then. She’d be wrong.

[][][]

When she woke up, she had that sweaty disgusting feeling clinging to her as customary of a hangover. The booze had oozed out. The events of the previous day flooded in and stung her brain. Groaning, she put a pillow over her face in a failed attempt to block everything out.

Force, she missed the battlefields now!

Her heart punched with a deep, horrible pang as she realised that she missed her brother more than anything in the world. At his worst, he could have crossed the street and beaten some sense into Lux. At his best, he would have known to make her warm beverage. Ares had always been good at dealing with emotional distress. She would have paid any price to have him back in that moment.

“Mother… switch back on,” she said. It was only a whisper but the lights that showed she was functional again fluttered back into action. “Make me some tea, please. Jasmine. No sugar.”

Chime. “Of course, darling.”

“Thank you,” she said. If Ares wasn’t here to take care of her, then she’d have to do it herself. She took the pot and cup from the service droid and made her way down the corridor to her brother’s old room.

Service droids cleaned the place regularly, but there was still a lonely air about it. She passed the models of spaceships that hung from the ceiling and speeder parts that lay haphazardly around. There were bodies of practise droids with wires propping out of them; remnants of projects that Ares didn’t have time to complete. Posters of some famous pod-racer stuck to the wall. A blade-back boar’s horns Ares had killed in a hunt three years ago were mounted on the wall. An unfinished chess game was on his desk. On his bedside table, a moderate stack of magazines looked at home. Their front covers featuring half-nude Twi’lek women on speeders.

 _Teenage boys are so gross,_ Pallas thought to herself as she set the beverage down on top of the magazines, blocking the sight.

She crawled into his bed, a safe space. She remembered coming here as a child during a nightmare and telling her brother about it under the pile of sheets. It was silly because her brother didn’t dream, but he understood fear and he knew how to make her brave.

Her head was still pounding. It was as she was half-way through the cup that her mother announced an uninvited visitor.

Chime. “Lux Bonterri is at the door.”

Pallas sighed, put the cup aside and banged her head against the table a few times. “What does he want?” she asked.

Chime. “I don’t know.”

Pallas scowled. “Of course, you don’t.”

She opened the door and there he stood, with an equally hungover look about him. He kept his eyes on the ground and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey… I’ve come to apologise… for yesterday. I was drunk and stupid. I said some things I shouldn’t have, and you didn’t need to hear… any of that.”

“…Thank you,” she said softly. “Would you like to come in? I have tea.”

“No. I can’t. I must help my mother prepare. We have guests coming over today,” he said, shrugging. He didn’t seem to care who it was that would be staying in his house. Guests often came and dined with his mother. “Would you like to join us for dinner? As an apology from me, allow my mother feed your skinny bones.”

“Sounds more like a favour to your mother,” she said, half-joking. “Why not. Sure. I don’t have anything to do until the Parliamentary session tomorrow… but no booze.”

“Force-forbid I ever go anywhere near the stuff again,” he said with a completely blank face, which made her laugh. “The stuff or Pompeii. It was his stupid idea in the first place. Pal, he has a problem.”

“He’s a Zygerrian,” she added.

“It’s not normal to drink that much,” Lux whispered, trauma in his eyes.

“You haven’t seen a lot of Zygerrians drink,” she countered.

“I hope I never do. He was talking about being a giraffe… or was that a dream. I can’t tell,” he said with a dead face. Yesterday’s alcohol had killed all the nerves in his face but had kept his sense of humour intact. “I’ll see you at 8 then.”

“Are you sure you’re fit to welcome your mother’s guests like that?” she asked.

He shrugged. “How important can they be? Besides, if you’re there, I’ll behave.”

“Because I love your mother, and to make sure you behave, I’ll be there,” she said, smiling. “Go make yourself into a respectable son. You’re an eyesore right now.”

She returned to her beverage. Tea solved everything.

[][][]

Ahsoka Tano liked being a warrior and her favourite type of negotiations were aggressive ones, so naturally she didn’t understand politics. Alas, Padme Amidala needed her help and the Jedi Code advocated for the gaining of knowledge. That was how she found herself a guest in the home of a Separatist Senator with Padme.

It was a bizarre day.

She didn’t exactly know what she was expecting from meeting a Separatist, but she didn’t think it would be someone so… normal. “You’re a Separatist?” she had asked the woman that had welcomed her and Padme so warmly.

Mina Bonterri only laughed at the padawan’s confusion. “Well of course, my dear. What were you expecting?” _Not a warm, hospitable, kind woman who wanted to end the war, that’s for sure_ , she thought.

Ahsoka concluded that politicians lived well. The Bonterri family had a beautiful home in the suburbs of Raxulon, the Separatist capital. Warm and welcoming, it was a nice home with life buzzing around in its every crevice. There were handmaids and servants milling around and, Ahsoka noticed, almost no droids. There was a nice garden in the back with apple trees, a gazebo and what appeared to be an old rusty children’s swing that hadn’t been used in years. The mansion occupied a plot of land on a massive lush boulevard and neighboured about six other mansions, which were all on one side of an avenue.

Where six mansions fit comfortably on one side, a palace dominated the same amount of space parallel to them. It was directly opposite the Bonterri house, guarded by Commando droids around the entire perimeter and had the look of a foreboding fortress. The red and black Separatist insignia was stamped on every possible surface and flag of the residence. It was impossible to not see on their arrival.

“I see you’ve noticed our neighbour,” said Mina, noticing Ahsoka’s stare.

“Why would anyone want to live in there?” said Ahsoka. Mina laughed at the observation.

“I think so too, but I suppose that the Head of State needs an impressive residence in Raxulon, even if he hardly ever uses it himself,” said Mina.

“That’s Count Dooku’s home?” Ahsoka asked, surprised that the Senator would give away the location of her enemies’ home so casually. Then again, perhaps it was hardly a secret to anyone, especially since the Republic now had a direct source to tell them about Dooku’s residences. 

“Count Dooku rarely comes to Raxus. His children, on the other hand, lived here in the heart of the Confederacy. Well, no, actually, they… mostly they abused mine and my husband’s hospitality,” said Mina, warmly, showing that she didn’t harbour any resentment for that abuse. “Lux! Come and help our guests with their luggage!” she called out to her son. The Bonterri son was exactly what Ahsoka would expect an aristocrat to be: a smug, posh boy who had never seen a day of work or battle in his life.

When the young Jedi and Senator were settled into their guest rooms, they joined the matriarch of the house for a drink in the parlour.

“He’s grown so much, Mina,” said Padme, looking out onto the Bonterri back garden where the youth was hanging out.

“Time won’t stop, even if we are at war. I’m afraid how these events are shaping his young life,” Mina mused, pouring a drink to her two guests.

“With all due respect, as a Separatist, didn’t you create this war?” Ahsoka prodded.

“Ahsoka!” Padme reprimanded, which further proved why Ahsoka didn’t like politics. Politicians were all so… touchy. Words were so fragile with them.

“It’s alright,” Mina assured, softly. “That’s a very polarised point of view, my dear. Would it surprise you to know that many of the people you call Separatists feel the same way about the Republic and the Jedi? Lux’s father was like that.” Her voice turned to sadness.

“Maybe I could speak with him,” offered Ahsoka. Surely that man was just misguided, fed the propaganda of Count Dooku and the Separatists.

“If only you could. A year ago next week, he was setting up a base on Aargonar when the clones attacked. My husband fought bravely in self-defence, but was killed,” Mina told her with no anger or bitterness towards the Republic, only grief for her loss.

Ahsoka realised she had over-stepped herself and trodden on painful wounds. She excused herself to get some fresh air. _Best leave the politics to the politicians_ , she thought.

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?” the boy said, eyeing her belt with caution.

“Yes,” she replied, having made no effort to hide her weapons. “Why do you ask?”

“Before the war, I was always told that the Jedi were good. And now all my friends say that they’re the ones to blame for the war,” said Lux. An entire childhood shared with Pompeii, a Jedi-hating Zygerrian, and Ares, an apprentice of the dark side, could only create one kind of impression of Jedi. 

“I’m the first Jedi you ever met, aren’t I?” asked Ahsoka.

“Well… uh, yes,” said Lux.

“Look at me,” said Ahsoka. “Am I so bad?”

His eyes went over her, as if to be sure that she was indeed ‘not so bad’. Boys never denied themselves the pleasure of looking at girls. “No, not bad at all,” he said, smirking.

Something about the way he said that reminded her of Ares. She groaned. “Well, it seems boys are the same whether they’re Republic or Separatist.” She turned on her heels to continue walking through the gardens.

“Wait!” he rushed after her, mortified at the prospect of offending his guest. Bad hospitality was a crime on both Raxus and Onderon. “How many Separatists have you actually met?”

“What?” she asked.

“Well, you think we’re all the bad guys, right?” he asked. “But how many of us have you actually met? And droids don’t count.”

That strange thought struck her. She had to think for a moment if she had. “Other than military officers like Grievous and Ventress, none, I guess. You and your mother are the first.” She reasoned that Ares didn’t count as a Separatist anymore so he’d be an unfair variable in the question. 

He outstretched his arms, imitating her. “Well? Look at me. Am I so bad?”

 _No_ , she thought. He wasn’t. He was just a kid, who happened to believe something different from her. Was that such a bad thing? Moreover, their beliefs weren’t even that different. She valued preserving innocent life and so did he. She hated the war and so did he. Their differences were their political beliefs, but, as a Jedi, was she even supposed to be involved in politics? She knew that was a question that had divided many in the Order.

“No,” she said, finally. “You’re not bad, but you enjoy… being ruled by a Sith Lord.” It was the biggest problem with the Separatists that she could come up with in that moment, whilst looking at him.

Lux shrugged. “As long as he abides by the Separatist Constitution, which he has, who cares what he does in his spare time? Besides, we’re not ruled by him. He’s just the Head of State. It is the Separatist Parliament that rules the Confederacy. A democracy how we believe it should be run.”

“In theory,” said Ahsoka, with much scepticism.

Lux smirked. “I could say the same about the Republic Senate and the Chancellor.”

Ahsoka didn’t know how to argue that. Somehow, the confusion of dark Siths and light Jedi trickled down to grey politics. Grey was complicated. Grey needed talking and thinking in copious quantities. Dark and light were clear lines. They assembled armies and waged battles and a soldier knew who the enemy was, but grey was ambiguous. You didn’t know who to shoot at if they were in grey.

“It’s okay,” said Lux. “I’m not trying to convert you. It’s probably a good thing to have sides. My friend Ares switched sides and, as far as I can tell, things aren’t too good for him.”

It occurred to the young Jedi that Ares had friends before he joined the Republic. And it was entirely possible that those friends missed him and mourned him. “You know… I could tell you about him if you want,” she offered.

Lux crooked an eyebrow at her, surprised that she’d know his old friend. He looked over his shoulders and then smiled. “I’d… like that very much, actually,” he said. So, Ahsoka regaled him with the stories of her experiences. Before she knew it, she was having a pleasant conversation with a patriotic Separatist about things that had nothing to do with the war or politics. She even let him ignite one of her lightsabres to see what it felt like.

“You and your senator friend are not acquainted with Pallas of Serenno, are you?” Lux asked her, suddenly, after he gave her the lightsabre back.

“Not… personally,” Ahsoka said. “Why?”

“Will she be able to recognise you?” Lux pressed.

“I don’t think so. There’s no reason why she should. We’ve never met face to face and I’m not an important enough military figure for her to have records on,” said Ahsoka.

“Good… cause she’s coming over for dinner,” said Lux, wincing at the horrified look that the padawan gave him.

“What?!”

“I invited her before I knew who was coming. It will be weird if I rescind that invitation now,” said Lux.

“No, you know what will be really weird? Me and Senator Amidala getting shot by her droids in your mother’s dining room!” Ahsoka stood up and looked at the door, ready to run. A retreat plan already mapping in her mind like it was a battle.

Lux rolled his eyes. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Wanna bet?” Ahsoka challenged. “We have to go.”

Lux sighed. “Would you calm down? You said Pallas wouldn’t recognise you or your senator, right? So long as you don’t scream at her that you’re from the Republic and flaunt those around,” he pointed to her lightsabres. “You’ll be fine.”

“I have to see what Senator Amidala says,” said Ahsoka, rushing up the stairs to the dining room.

The verdict from both Senators was not as negative as the padawan thought it should be. “Senators, I want to advise extreme caution,” she added after her rundown of the situation.

“Are you sure she will not recognise you?” Senator Amidala asked her young friend, who gave a nervous nod of the head. Separatist commanders never knew who she was until she put a blade to their throats. Everyone, even those on her own side, referred to her as ‘youngling’ or some other similar jibe at her age. This one shouldn’t be any different. “Then we must stay. If we could convince Count Dooku’s own daughter that this war needs to end, we actually have a good shot at ending it!” Amidala looked at their host for her approval.

“Certainly, and I have a funny feeling that she doesn’t much like the war,” said Mina Bonterri. “However, I must ask you of a few things, old friend. The first is that you cannot reveal that you are with the Republic. You will pose as one of my constituents from Onderon and not a Senator from Naboo.”

“Of course,” Padme said. “I understand.”

Mina then turned to Ahsoka. “The second is that your young Jedi friend must vow that no harm will come to Pallas whilst you are under my roof. I know the threat she poses for the Republic, but Pallas is like a daughter to me. I cannot have her blood in my home,” she said.

Ahsoka sighed. It would be wrong to abuse this kind woman’s hospitality. “You have my word,” she said. To prove her point, she unclipped her lightsabres from her belt. “… and my weapon to prove the weight of my word.”

“Thank you, young Jedi,” the wise woman said and bowed her head. She took the lightsabres, placed them inside a chest of draws and shut them inside, out of sight but where Ahsoka knew they were safely kept.

[][][]

This was not how Ahsoka had imagined she would meet the Republic’s youngest, deadly adversary. She had been ushered in by the servants like a long-lost relative followed by four bodyguard droids. Mina made the introductions between the Separatist commander and disguised republicans.

“Your Excellency, these are some of my colleagues from my home-world of Onderon, La Fey and Tui Kos,” said Mina. “I believe Commander Pallas needs no introduction.”

“We are honoured to meet you, Your Excellency,” Padme said with ease, curtseying politely. Ahsoka copied her friend, despite how difficult it was to bow before a hated enemy.

For a horrifying moment, Ahsoka thought she saw recognition in Pallas’ brown eyes, but it faded quickly. It must have been a trick of the light. If she had recognised them, they would have been blaster fodder by now.

“It is my pleasure to welcome you to Raxus,” replied the young commander, bowing her head.

They sat down to dinner with Pallas being offered the seat of honour. Lux instinctively sat by his friend’s right side, though kept his eyes down.

A handmaid came up to them with a bottle. “Wine—”

“No!” Pallas and Lux protested, simultaneously. Both blushed a deep shade of red and avoided eye contact.

“…Your Excellency?” finished the handmaid, awkwardly.

Mina crooked an eyebrow at the two teenagers. “Is everything alright with you two?”

“Fine, mother!” Lux almost shrieked.

“Sounds like you had fun last night,” said Mina.

“We both learnt an important lesson: don’t drink with Zygerrians,” said Lux. Pallas pinched the bridge of her nose, wanting the ground to swallow her whole. Ahsoka found the whole thing very amusing and sipped her drink in quiet delight. If she couldn’t harm her enemy, at least she could have this.

“What brings you to Raxus then?” Pallas tried to move on.

“We’ve come to report to Senator Bonterri of the hardships of our people. How long will this war last do you think, commander?” Padme said, lying easily.

Ashoka couldn’t help but watch the commander with quiet fascination. It was difficult to look at the young commander and not trace her similarities to her brother. They both had brown, cunning and erudite eyes. There was that insufferable individualism in her aura that Ahsoka had sensed in Ares when she had first met him. Some of the commander’s movements were reminiscent of Ares’. Later in the evening, Ahsoka would find that the siblings shared a laugh, warm and almost melodic, and senses of humour. Their eloquence and manner of speaking was identical. They were two leaves of one stem.

“I’m sorry to hear that, madam. This war is costing us all greatly,” she said. “Though I’m not privy to the highest military meetings, I imagine that they have a plan to end the war soon enough.” Those were polite, empty words and every person in the room knew that. The war was not going to end any time soon.

“Don’t you think that peaceful negotiations would end the war faster?” Padme posited.

Pallas’ eyes skimmed to Mina, who was occupied with her meal and gave away no emotions about the matter. “No… unfortunately, I will have to disagree with you. Peace is not an option with the Republic,” said Pallas. 

“Why?” Lux asked, feeling himself brave enough to challenge his friend. “Why can’t we negotiate with the Republic? There’s so much killing going on—”

Pallas’ brows crooked and her eyes hardened. “War is never about killing or bloodshed. War is about opportunity. Unfortunately, this war is very profitable to many people and it won’t stop until their coffers have been sufficiently filled,” Pallas explained.

“The Banking Clan?” Padme asked. The bill that the Republic was proposing would benefit the Banking Clan in particularly.

“I imagine them to be one of many benefactors of this conflict,” Pallas replied. “War is profit. For some it’s power and money, for others it’s a career and maybe for a few it is revenge. For one or two lucky ones, a combination of all three.”

“What is it for you?” Ahsoka asked, unable to contain herself. She could feel Padme’s anxiety flare next to her, but Ahsoka couldn’t help it. She was fascinated.

“For me, war is duty. Duty to my late husband more than anything. He had been the one who had written the Raxus Address. He had masterminded the Confederacy with my father. It is my duty to finish what he started. It breaks my heart to be forced to fight my brother and waging war is more difficult than I thought it would be. If I had another choice, I would take it gladly, but this war is my family’s legacy. I am chained to this distasteful conflict,” she said, silencing the two disguised republicans. Lux steamed quietly in his seat at the mention of the dead man. Pallas saw his anger and mentally berated herself. They had _just_ made peace!

“I plan to propose a bill of peace in the next Parliamentary session,” Mina said with the utmost caution. “Would you stop me, Your Excellency?”

Pallas made a grieved sigh and rubbed her temple. “Constitutionally, I cannot forbid it. Your freedom of speech is your right as a Senator of the Confederacy. However, as your friend, Mina, please don’t do that. There are forces beyond our control at work here that dictate how this war is being conducted.”

Mina’s mouth curled into the closest resemblance of anger that Pallas had ever seen on the woman’s face. It was unpleasant and Pallas desperately wanted to undo this. “I am not your mother, Pallas, but I can claim to have had some influence over your upbringing. I have always taught you and your brother one important value: to stand by your beliefs in the face of adversity. He interpreted that as joining the Jedi and betraying his family. I would have hoped that you could have chosen to fight for the Confederacy with a similar motivation and yet you talk about unseen powers ruling the thing you fight so ardently for.”

“Forgive me, Senator, you misinterpret me. I love the Confederacy and its values. I truly believe that the Republic is corrupt, and the Jedi have become disillusioned. My father is evidence of that. I just believe that there are forces beyond your control that will influence the war to continue both within the Republic and the Confederacy,” said Pallas.

“Then democracy is doomed, and freedom of speech is pointless,” said Padme.

“In war, yes, sadly,” said Pallas. “…I’m sorry for bringing down the mood. Let’s talk about something else. Have you seen much of Raxulon? I can offer some recommendations of the city. I’m sure Lux’s recommendation can be summed up to The Library and The Academy.”

“Hey!” The boy defended himself. “I know more than two places in this city.”

“You think so? Name some,” Pallas challenged him, somewhat childishly. Mina laughed at the friends’ banter and the two guests chuckled politely.

They continued in amicable conversation until the end of the night. Pallas rose from her seat. “Senator Bonterri, thank you. Your meals are always a delight. My compliments to your chef, but I must not overstep your hospitality anymore.”

“Obviously. You’re not seven anymore, are you?” Lux whispered into his cup of water. Pallas kicked him under the table. He grinned back at her in response to the playful jab.

“Ladies, I hope you enjoy the beauty and hospitality of Raxus. I wish you a safe journey back home,” she said and then made direct eye contact with Ahsoka, “and luck in the wars to come.”

The padawan believed that the commander knew who they were. She didn’t know how Pallas could possibly know them, but her senses were practically screaming it. So, why didn’t she order her droids to blast them or arrest them? Their meeting here was illegal.

“Your Excellency, allow me to escort you to the gate,” Ahsoka jumped in. Behind her, Padme’s anxiety could burst, but Mina seemed surprisingly calm, if a little pleasantly surprised, by the padawan’s forwardness.

“It would be my pleasure,” said the commander and the two girls left the dining room. Despite her character, Ahsoka was surprised to see that she and Pallas were of equal height. The road to the gate was short. She had to get down to it quickly.

“After you, Your Excellency,” said Ahsoka and opened the front door for the older girl. They stood on the porch.

“You’re bold, Commander Tano,” said Pallas as soon as they were out of the house. “Bold to come to Raxus and plead for peace with Senator Amidala and bold to come out here with me.” The bodyguards tensed and pointed their guns at Ahsoka. The padawan got into a defensive stance out of instinct. “Units, stand down!” Pallas ordered, and the droids obeyed instantly.

“How do you know who we are?” Ahsoka asked.

“I make it my job to know the names and faces of my enemies. You serve under General Skywalker and have fought alongside my brother on Geonosis and Felucia. Your friend is a highly important senator – the head of the peace party, no? It was reckless of you to assume that I wouldn’t recognise you,” Pallas’ voice was harsh.

“Will you turn us in?” Ahsoka asked.

“Walk with me, commander.” They moved away from the front door of the Bonterri’s and slowly made their way to the front gate of the residence. “In short, no. The Bonterri family is too dear to me. I will do nothing in this matter. As far as anyone knows, you are Tui and La and I had no knowledge of your being here. Afterall, why would I know of a padawan and some senator and why would I care who my neighbours chose to invite for dinner,” said Pallas. “You wanted something in coming out here, commander. We are approaching that gate and I’m afraid that Count Dooku’s home cannot offer you the same hospitality that the Bonterri’s did, so I suggest that you say it now.”

“I wanted to know if you knew,” said Ahsoka. “And to ensure that my friend will be safe to return to the Republic.”

“Well, I did know, and you are. You both are granted safe passage back,” Pallas said. “If… if you can, may I ask you to deliver a message to my brother?”

“What kind of message?” asked Ahsoka, distrustful.

Pallas stopped with uncertainty. This was dangerous. This was painful. “Tell him that I love him… Tell him that I miss him and I’m sorry for everything that happened to him… And tell him to never come back to Raxus or the Confederacy. Death waits for the traitor who returns.”

“I will,” said Ahsoka. Ares was on a mission to Mandalore with Obi-Wan right now, but she would tell him once they returned to Coruscant. “But… how can you fight your brother and love him at once?”

Pallas sighed deeply, in grief. “It is not an easy choice to make: love or duty, right and wrong, but we all must make it.” They reached the end of the front yard and Pallas faced the younger girl. “Please look out for him, even if I must do everything in my power to hurt him.”

“I will,” Ahsoka said. “You know, you’re not so bad for a Separatist,” as she opened the small gate for the commander.

Pallas smirked. “Oh, just you wait for our next battle, commander.”

“Is that a challenge?” Ahsoka said, with the air of competition.

“Please… Jedi scum,” Pallas rolled her eyes and said the slur with such discomfort that Ahsoka couldn’t even pretend to be insulted by it. “A challenge, from you? Don’t make me laugh, youngling. My evil villain speech is being written up by my minions as we speak.” She walked through the gate. “Good luck, Commander Tano,” she said sincerely.

“You… too,” Ahsoka found herself saying. Later, when her master would berate her for the foolishness of this mission, she would tell him what she learnt here on Raxus: the sides of war were not as black and white as she had once thought they were and that she had gained a newfound understanding and, dare she say, admiration for their enemy.

[][][]

In the next Parliamentary session, Mina Bonterri did not heed Pallas’ advice. Pallas looked to the benches and saw two guests there, watching the whole session, and calculated just how much treason she was committing in that moment by not turning them in. She decided to ignore that mathematical equation. She had bigger problems on her plate: the Senator had been able to rally support in the house and Pallas had no choice but to pass the bill.

“In accordance with the bylaws of Independent Systems, a verbal vote is required! All those in favour of the bill, say ‘Aye!’” Pallas announced to the house. There was a resounding cry of ‘Ayes!’ “All those against, say ‘Nay!’” A smaller contingent of voices replied. “The Ayes have it. We will move for peace talks immediately.”

Pallas stood and turned on the hologram transmitter contacting the Republic Senate.

“A message to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine and the Intergalactic Senate of the Republic, as the acting Speaker of the Assembly for the Confederacy of Independent Systems I, Commander Pallas of Serenno, extend a proposal for peace talks, as per the vote of the Separatist Parliament. We await your decision.”

She dreaded the call from her father. She had to wait several days for it, but it did come and with a terrifying vengeance. His tight, angry scowl promised the most unimaginable pain.

“Pallas, we have _much_ to discuss…”

[][][]

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Lux asked, coming into her room. The urgent message from her on his holotransmitter so late in the night was alarming. He got there as fast as he could. 

She wasn’t facing him. The first thing he noticed was that she was no longer wearing her late husband’s long coat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her without the dead man’s artefact. Without it, she looked so small and frail, like a reptile without its armour. The intimidating skin had been shed.

“I’ve been called back to war… I leave tomorrow morning.” She turned to face him and reached her hand out to touch his chest.

“Pal?” he asked, nervous.

“I’ve lost so much in this war… I can’t lose you too,” she said. Her hand caressed his cheek with silk-like softness, and, to his surprise, she found his lips and began kissing him with full fervour. She was so full of life and so good at it that Lux’s eyes rolled to the back of his head in ecstasy. Her arms snaked around his neck and he gripped her hips pulling her closer to himself. Her mouth and teeth left red, harsh marks pulsating like wounds all over his body.

He didn’t hear her finger press a button on her wrist commlink. Downstairs a squadron of commando droids’ eyes lit up with a bright red colour. With their blasters clasped in their cold fingers, the machines slithered towards their sleeping, unsuspecting target.

“I thought…. I thought you… you didn’t want to—” he said, as he undressed.

“Stop talking,” she commanded, before her nails dug deep into his back and ripped him apart. Thin ribbons of scarlet stung his back. The boy hissed in pleasure.

She pushed him down onto her bed. Lux swallowed his voice with a gulp. He reached out to caress her, but the sharp, instinctive crack of a slap made his hand fall away. The ferocity of her kisses gave him more pleasure than his imagination could have prepared him for.

Elsewhere, the red-eyed droids crept to the high floor of the Bonterri mansion and into the master bedroom. There was no one else home. All the servants left for the night. Inside, Mina Bonterri was tossing and turning in her slumber. She was being plagued by horrible nightmares, as if she knew what was coming.

When she mounted him, Lux was conscious of little else. He didn’t notice her distracted glances or any other tell-tale signs that something was very, very wrong. Lux could see and think only about one thing: the girl he loved was doing unspeakable, unthinkable things to him.

The cold, red-eyed murderers stood over the sleeping woman. One of them held the door and another secured the window. The droid’s sergeant took his weapon and placed the metal point against the woman’s right-side temple and fired. She hadn’t even woken up to see her killers. The uneasy, sleepless thrashing stopped. Her arm hung limply off the side of the bed. Crimson blood seeped onto the white bedlinen. Her neck had slumped, and the whites of her eyes opened a little, pulled down by gravity alone.

Somehow, the death was felt even before anyone knew of it. Pallas knew the second that the life passed out of Mina Bonterri’s body and so did Ares, who, in that exact moment, had been speeding through Concordian terrain. He paused his speeder for a moment, feeling his chest, bewildered by that sinking, horrid feeling. Somehow, he knew, even without really knowing, that something truly awful had happened.

Once she was dead, their orders were to make her murder seem as gruesome and bloody and painful as it was commanded. With their business complete, the sergeant sent a green signal to the commander’s wrist commlink.

Lux came with ecstasy. He had been so happy he could have cried, which was what Pallas had collapsed into. Still panting, he moved closer to her to try and… console? Assure? He wasn’t sure why anyone would cry after that. Was it painful? Was it… displeasing? Did he missing something? He had tried to be good enough for her. Did girls normally cry? He wasn’t sure. This had been his first time, but he wasn’t sure if it was her first time. The myth was that first time was never good for anyone.

“Hey… you okay?” He tried to reach for her shoulder, and she shuddered from his touch, as if he was repulsive or made of ice. That hurt. “What’s wrong?” His voice broke as he spoke.

“Nothing,” she said, distant and frosty.

“I can see that something’s wrong. Why won’t you look at me?” She said nothing, hardening her jaw. She went to her room’s minibar and pulled out a bottle of strong liquor. She took a long, bitter swing of it. He was surprised that she could still tolerate the stuff, given recent events.

“I cry,” she said, simply, wiping away the booze from her lips with a finger.

“Hey… it’s okay,” said Lux. He noticed that she wasn’t even a little bit tired, in comparison to his sheer exhaustion. “What do you want me to do?”

She finally met his eye. He assumed it was the booze that made her stumble a little. “I want a shower. Come with me.”

As the hot water steamed over their pressed bodies and concealed the tears that fell from her, she whispered to him. “Don’t leave me.” He looked at her, bewildered at her meaning. “Stay with me, Lux. Please don’t go home tonight.”

He agreed, unaware of the horror that was waiting for him in his mother’s bedroom the next day.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a COMMENT and a kudos!


	9. A Forbidden Affair

#  **Chapter 9 – A Forbidden Affair**

Kenobi had not told his mentee much about Mandalore, except their mission and their destination. Ares was disappointed to learn that it was diplomacy, not battle. As he sat in his red starfighter, with CL-Y guiding them through hyperspace, he did some reading about Mandalore and was disappointed to learn that they were pacifists. They didn’t sound like his kind of people. 

“CL-Y… just kill me now,” he said, already dreading the adventure ahead. Luckily for him, CL-Y had a good understanding of her master’s sense of humour and didn’t immolate the fighter’s engines at his command. She did, however, beep in reprimand for the order.

“I can hear you groaning even from the void of space,” Kenobi’s voice came out through the commlink. He was in his own starfighter travelling through hyperspace a few yards away from Ares.

“Sorry, dad,” Ares said, and it took him a few moments to realise what he had called Obi-Wan. “I, uh… I meant ‘general’. Sorry, general.”

He could hear Obi-Wan shit-eating grin through the commlink. “Do you sense my fatherly presence, son?”

“It was an honest mistake," Ares’ cheeks burned. “Stop it—"

“I won’t stop. If you’re embarrassed, that means I’ve become a true dad—"

“CL-Y, how about you turn on the Republic Radio?” said Ares and the little astromech complied.

“ _…the Republic Senate continues to discuss the bank deregulation bill. In other news, Doctor Nuvo Vindi has escaped captivity. The infamous doctor had been responsible for the development of the previously extinct Blue Shadow Virus several months ago on the planet of Naboo with the intention of using it as a tool for the Separatists. The escape from prison was carried out by mercenary bounty hunters identified as Cad Bane. The Republic has placed a hefty bounty on his head to anyone who can return him to custody—”_

“Shut it off, CL-Y. No news is better news,” Ares groaned. “How about silence? Silence is good.”

They came out of hyperspace to the planet of Mandalore, disengaged from their hyperspace rings and began their landing. A guard escorted them to the palace of the Duchess Satine Kryze where they were met by the Prime Minister.

“Thank you for meeting with me, Prime Minister Almec,” said Kenobi. “This is my companion, Captain Ares.”

“I welcome you both as a servant of the people, but I am troubled by the false rumours that brought you here,” said the shrewd politician. “Mandalore would never turn against the Republic. The Duchess Satine values peace more than her own life.”

“Oh, I’m aware of the Duchess’ views—” said Kenobi.

“Master Kenobi, Mandalore’s violent past is behind us. All our warriors were exiled to our moon, Concordia. They died out years ago,” said Almec, making the effort to make sure the two new visitors understood that Mandalore was no longer violent. _What’s he hiding?_ Ares’ suspicion immediately stirred. Idealists, especially those who went out of their way to assure others of their ideals, were usually hypocrites. 

“Are you certain? I recently encountered a man who wore Mandalorian armour, Jango Fett,” said Kenobi.

“Yeah, we created an entire army in his image. His is the most common face in the galaxy,” said Ares in a sarcastic tone.

“Jango Fett was a common bounty hunter! How he acquired that armour is beyond me!” The Prime Minister defended vehemently, but Kenobi’s attention had shifted. The Duchess had arrived.

“Master Kenobi, my shining Jedi Knight, to the rescue once again,” said the Duchess, her voice was regal. Ares was surprised by the romantic reference. _Could it be…? Kenobi? No…_

“After all these years, you’re even more beautiful than ever,” replied Kenobi, his eyes were planted on the duchess.

Hypocritic idealists? Ares didn’t need to go further than the Jedi Order to have proof of that statement. _That’s two Jedi_ , he thought to himself, bring to mind his theory about Skywalker and the Senator.

“Kind words from a man who accuses me of treachery,” said Satine, suddenly harsh.

“I would never accuse you of personal wrongdoing, duchess. However, a Separatist saboteur attacked one of our Republic cruisers. A Mandalorian saboteur,” said Kenobi, taking out a holotransmitter and playing the recording of a highly-proficient warrior firing mercilessly at clones.

“You must be mistaken. No Mandalorian would engage in such violence. Not anymore,” said the Prime Minister. “Where is this man now?”

“He took his own life rather than submit to questioning,” replied Obi-Wan. “I know these commandos fought in many wars, often against The Jedi.”

That enraged the Duchess. “Every one of my people is as trustworthy as I am! Clearly your investigation was ordered because the Senate is eager to intervene in our affairs!”

“Our investigation was ordered by the Jedi Council,” Kenobi corrected. “Captain Ares and I only want the truth of the matter.”

“I stand corrected,” the Duchess said. “General Kenobi, perhaps you and your captain would like to join me on a walk through the city.” She outstretched her hand and Kenobi was happy to take it.

Ares grinned. He was going to third wheel them so hard. _Jedi can’t form attachments? Yeah right._

[][][]

The captain always remained half a step behind the pair, a constant reminder for the general that he, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the model Jedi, was setting an example of the Jedi Code to the boy.

“It’s good to see you, Obi-Wan, despite the circumstances,” said the Duchess.

“Your peaceful ways have paid off. Mandalore has prospered since the last time I was here,” said Kenobi. _Interesting_ , thought Ares. He hadn’t said anything of his history with Mandalore on their long journey to this planet. Obi-Wan certainly had many opportunities on their dull journey.

“Not everyone on Mandalore believes that our commitment to peace is a sign of progress. There is a group that calls itself Death Watch. I imagine these are the renegades you’re looking for. They idolize violence and the warrior ways of the past,” said the Duchess. “There are those among us, certain officials, who are working to root out these criminals. It has been an ongoing investigation.”

“How widespread is this… Death Watch movement?” asked Kenobi.

“It’s hardly a movement. It’s a small group of hooligans who choose to vandalize public places, nothing more,” said the Duchess. “We shall soon have them in custody. We have tracked them down to our moon, Concordia.”

“I hope you’re right, Duchess,” said Kenobi.

Ares could have roared in frustration. There was obviously something here, but they refused to talk about it. He couldn’t believe there was nothing to third wheel! Why wasn’t he surprised that Obi-Wan’s old flame was as rigid and celibate as he was?! She didn’t even have any kind of moronic Jedi Code that she needed to obey! It was when they started having a philosophical debate about peace that Ares’ patience had officially run out and he quit.

At some point, Obi-Wan flashed the young boy a victorious look, mocking him. _You thought you could get dirt on me? You forget that I was Anakin’s master for many years and so have my own tricks up my sleeve. Shame on you, captain._

Ares silently growled at his psychological defeat at the hands of the Jedi Master.

Their dreary philosophical debate was suddenly cut short. Ares would have liked to think that was merciful, had it not been a bomb explosion at a memorial. People were hurt and lying scattered everywhere from the shock of the blast, but unlike a battlefield there was no foe to be seen. _The worst kind of attack_ , Ares mused.

“Hooligans couldn’t have arranged an attack on this scale,” Kenobi told Satine, having protected her from the blast.

“Then this must be the work of an off-worlder,” defended Satine.

“Uh… general? Duchess?” Ares said, gaining their attention. He force summoned a holotransmitter that was showing a yellow hologram of some kind of sign. “What’s this?”

“The sign of the Death Watch,” the Duchess murmured in horror.

“This goes far beyond vandalism. This is a political statement against your government and against you. You’re not safe here. I’m taking you back to the palace,” said Kenobi, ever the knight in shining armour again.

“I’ll stay here and find the suspect, general,” said Ares as Kenobi lifted the Duchess to her feet. The Jedi nodded at his mentee and escorted the Duchess. Ares turned to the Mandalorian guards and public. “No one leaves the scene! I want to question everyone here.” The boy could feel fear in the crowd. An obvious emotion to have after a bombing, but there was one that stood out. A feeling of victory and accomplishment. “You there!” He pointed to a man who was surprised to be so easily called out. He made a run for it and Ares gave chase.

Kenobi, seeing his captain find the bomber so easily, also joined the chase once his duchess was in the protection of her royal guards.

They cornered the bomber to a balcony upon which he stood precariously, threatening to jump.

“We only want to talk!” Kenobi warned him, but the man jumped anyway, murmuring something in a foreign dialect. Ares focused and force lifted the man, so that he wouldn’t meet such a grisly death. He hovered above ground and Satine’s men subdued him on the level below.

“Jedi always want to talk,” Ares told his general as they descended below. “They never think to use force.” Kenobi glared at him, though now was not the time to reprimand his young ward.

Satine was listening to him as her guards held him.

“What’s he saying?” Kenobi asked.

“He’s speaking in a dialect they use on Concordia, our moon,” said Satine.

“Yes, but what has he said?” asked Ares.

“He’s threatening me and my government. He proclaims that Mandalore will be in Death Watch’s grasp soon enough. He’s angry that you prevented him from taking his own life – he claims that’s dishonourable,” said the Duchess.

“You’re very welcome,” Ares said.

“I shall like to visit this Moon of yours,” said Kenobi.

“The Concordian Moon is a Provence with its own governor. You’ll need me to escort you,” said the Duchess.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Kenobi, employing his usual air of self-confidence. Ares crooked an eyebrow at the general. _What are you doing? Why are you trying to spend less time with her?_

“Actually, it will. You won’t make much progress without me there, especially since you’ve just been involved with the attempted-suicide of a Concordian proclaiming Death Watch ideals,” said the Duchess.

“I didn’t try to kill him,” said Kenobi.

“I know. That’s why I’m still talking to you,” said the Duchess, coldly, which revealed a clue to the young captain why the two had such chilly relationship. As much as the Jedi liked to think of themselves as peacekeepers, they were warriors. The Duchess had made it abundantly clear that she was a pacifist. How unfortunate it was that the two had to be so… taken with one another and hold such parallel ideals. “That was very quick thinking, captain…” the Duchess looked embarrassed at having not remembered the boy’s name.

“Ares,” said the boy, taking a bow to the royal. 

“Captain Ares, thank you for saving a man’s life, regardless of whether or not he’s grateful for it,” said the Duchess, taking a bow to him. She sent a glare to Kenobi as she turned away from them.

[][][]

The ship carrying the Duchess, Kenobi and Ares touched down on Concordia. They were immediately greeted by the governor of the moon, Pre Vizsla.

“Duchess Satine, you are most welcome,” he said, and Ares could sense the superficiality of the man, not an unusual trait in politicians.

“Thank you, Governor Vizsla,” said the Duchess. “May I present General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Captain Ares, representing the Jedi Council. Governor Vizsla is one of the officials that I spoke of. He’s been working to find the members of the Death Watch.”

“I take it you’ve heard the rumours about Satine. About how she’s supposedly leading Mandalore into an alliance with the Separatists,” said Vizsla, grievously. _Pointing out their flaws was an interesting way to talk about one’s allies_ , thought Ares. He noticed that Vizsla didn’t give any alternative explanations for the rumours or defence of the Duchess.

“Our only instructions are to seek the truth,” said Kenobi, firmly.

Ares went back inside the ship and brought out the bomber in his handcuffs, who was still imbittered that he had been caught and denied the right to end his own life. He thrashed in Ares’ grip, but the boy held on firmly.

“This is the man responsible for the bombing of the memorial?” asked Vizsla.

“Yes, he was apparently part of Death Watch,” replied Kenobi.

“A worrisome prospect. If you’ll excuse me, Master Jedi, we must attend to this man’s trial,” said the governor. His guards took the bomber from Ares’ grip and dragged him off to his cell.

“He’s an interesting character,” murmured Ares. “He’s hiding something, general.”

“How do you know?” Kenobi asked.

“I can sense it. Can’t you?” Ares said, taking a deep inhale and closing his eyes. “His feelings are of violence and anger. There’s so much anger within him. I’ve gained so much strength just by being in his presence.”

“You can sense and harness the emotions of other’s through the force?” Kenobi asked, stunned.

“Mostly, fear and anger. There’s so much of it in war. It would be waste to not use it,” said Ares.

“We’ll discuss this later,” promised Kenobi and then turned to the Duchess. “I need to ask you a favour. Please keep Governor Vizsla occupied at dinner. I’d like to see one of these mining facilities for myself. I’m hoping that they’re not still operational.” He reached into his belt and pulled out an earpiece. “I want you to wear this earpiece so that we can stay in contact in case you run into trouble while I’m gone.” Kenobi turned to his captain. “Sync your commlink to the earpiece too in case I’m unavailable.” Ares obeyed.

“Remember that you are here under my protection,” said Satine. “Please try not to cause problems where none yet exist.”

“Think of me as searching for solutions!” Kenobi called out as he mounted a speeder.

“I have to tell you: I’m opposed to all of this!” Satine said.

“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t,” responded Kenobi and took off.

Ares sighed. “We’ll try not be a burden, Duchess,” he said and jumped onto his own speeder, following the Jedi.

[][][]

The two men journeyed to the mining facility and Ares couldn’t take the trip in silence. There had been too much to not talk about it.

“So, are we gonna talk about Satine?” the boy prodded his mentor. “You didn’t mention we’d be meeting someone so… interesting.”

“Ares…” Kenobi’s tone was a warning. The captain was balancing on precarious matters. An old man’s wounds were rotten things to stick fingers into.

“What? I’m not a Jedi! You can tell me. I don’t think much of the Jedi Code – I wouldn’t care if you broke it,” Ares said. The adrenaline out of his conversation rivalled any battlefield.

“But I do… and I didn’t break it,” replied Kenobi. “We are not talking about this, Ares.” The subject was closed. Ares huffed, annoyed by the old man’s insistence on celibacy, but respecting his desire for silence.

They arrived at the mines.

“It doesn’t look abandoned,” said Ares, taking his lightsabre in hand. The lights were on, the footprints were fresh, and the landing platform looked recently used.

“No,” said Obi-Wan, scratching his beard. “You go topside. I’ll check downstairs. See what is really going on here.”

“Got it,” said Ares, before leaping up with a force jump to the platform overhead. There were whole barracks up here: rifles, armour, boots, belts, ration bars and helmets that reminded Ares of the clones’ armour. A not-so-distant ancestor. This was an organised, well-funded military operation. “Some pacifists…” Ares murmured, inspecting a rifle. He shot a yellow blast at the floor. “Functional buggers.”

There was a disturbance in the Force. Ares felt it before he heard it. Kenobi was in trouble.

The boy put the rifle back where he found it and took off running towards the danger. Obi-Wan had been knocked out by two men. They wore the armour and carried the rifles Ares had seen in the barracks. The two had loaded Kenobi onto an assembly line and were demonstrating how they were going to squash him and then crush him for fun.

“Oh great…” Ares murmured to himself. He looked around for something to help him. Focusing, he managed to press the button on the hanger door that would shut them. They clasped with a loud clang.

“There’s someone out there! Keep the machine running,” one of the soldiers said. “Let’s check it out! It could be the other Jedi!” _And you would be wrong,_ thought Ares as he waited for them to get out of the building. The boy then slipped down to the bottom floor and ran up to the control panel.

“Hello, general,” Ares said with a smirk.

“Ares… get me out of here,” Kenobi growled, impatiently.

“I’m working on it! Where’s your lightsabre?” said Ares, inspecting the control panel.

“They took it,” said Kenobi.

“You know, that weapon is your life—”

“Ares!” Obi-Wan yelped.

“If you lose it, you die—”

“Are you done?”

“It is the heart, blade and crystal of the Jedi. Don’t lose it,” Ares said, wearing a shit-eating grin as he pushed the button to release Obi-Wan from his shackles.

“Very funny,” Obi-Wan mumbled, clutching his wrists. He stood up and stretched. “This place is dangerous. The Death Watch is much more serious than Satine told us.”

“I think this is what the governor was hiding. He would know what was happening on his own land. My guess is that he’s funding them. If that’s the case and we just left the Duchess alone with him…” said Ares.

Obi-Wan immediately moved to his commlink, dialling the Duchess’ earpiece. “Satine, are you there? Come in Satine.” She made a sound that made it clear that she was in someone’s company and couldn’t talk. “We found something in the mines. Death Watch is very much active. Pre Vizsla is likely in league with them. Be careful. We’re coming back. Don’t engage with him until we get there.”

“Slight problem with that, general. They’ve got our speeders,” said Ares, looking out of the window.

“Then, we’ll take theirs,” Kenobi pointed to the garage of bikes and speeders. Both hopped on and sped away back to the governor’s residence.

Not long after that, something in the force hit Ares with a shock. For a long moment, he couldn’t breathe and stopped his speeder to catch his breath. It had felt like what he imagined a cardiac arrest would feel like. Somewhere, far away, something truly awful had happened.

“Ares… you okay?” Kenobi’s voice prodded through his commlink. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Ares caught his breath. “I’m okay. I just… felt a disturbance in the force… I’ll be over there soon,” Ares made up the distance quickly. He shook off that strange occurrence. There was nothing he could do, and, moreover, he didn’t even know what it was.

“I can sense your strong feelings, general. Concern, fear even,” said Ares, as the two sped across the Concordian terrain.

“I don’t see how that has any bearing on the situation we find ourselves in!” Kenobi raised his voice.

“Actually, it does. Keep your head in the present, not your duchess. If I can sense your feelings, others will too,” said Ares.

Kenobi looked at the boy with worry. “Actually, I don’t think others can. What you said earlier got me thinking. Sensing the emotions of others so easily is not an ability many Jedi possess, especially in time of war when the force is so clouded. But you seem to thrive on fear, anger, and pain. It’s not a good thing.”

“I’m not a Jedi! Never have been, never will be,” replied Ares, scoffing at the suggestion that his abilities ought to be matched to the insulting standard.

“I know little of the dark side’s powers,” continued Kenobi. “And I don’t enjoy your use of it, but the Council has forbidden training you, so you have no alternatives but to use your father’s training. We’ll discuss this with them when we get back to Coruscant.”

“Great… more reasons for the Council to distrust me,” Ares groaned aloud.

Obi-Wan glared at his young captain. “You’re a war hero of the Republic now. I think you’ll find their distaste of your origins easier to bear.”

“You think some metals and ribbons can wipe the stain of a traitor?” said Ares.

“No, I don’t suppose they do, but I hope actions do,” said Kenobi.

They arrived at the governor’s home. It was quiet. Too quiet. Both men dismounted their speeders and ran to the entrance with lightsabres in hand.

“I have a feeling that your Duchess ignored your instructions of not engaging with the potentially dangerous terrorist,” said Ares as they traversed through the empty halls of the governor’s residence.

“I’m afraid that that sounds like something she would do,” said Kenobi. “Where could they be?”

“Use your feelings just for a moment. Find her through the force,” suggested Ares.

“Since when does the egg teach the chicken?” asked Obi-Wan. Ares shrugged. Obi-Wan focused for a moment using the boy’s advice. “This way,” he said and lead the two of them down to a hanger.

There was a ship there, looking like it was ready to take off. The Mandalorian soldiers they had met before were there and shoving the Duchess into the aircraft. Watching all of this was the governor, Pre Vizsla, dressed in armour that was identical to the warriors.

“General. Hope you don’t lose this one,” Ares gained Kenobi’s attention before giving him his father’s curved lightsabre. “I want that back. You deal with Vizsla and distract them, while I’ll go around back to get the Duchess.”

“Alright,” agreed Kenobi, igniting the red blade as Ares scurried away. The Jedi Master came out of hiding and advanced on Pre Vizsla. They began to battle. Vizsla used his ancestral Dark Sabre whilst Obi-Wan’s hilt was clasped onto his belt. As the governor was spewing his family’s history of Jedi-hunting, Ares focused, and force chocked the two soldiers manhandling the Duchess.

“No! Don’t kill them!” Satine implored the young captain once she had her bearings straight of what was happening. Surprised at her mercy to her captors and obligated to follow orders, Ares instead bashed their heads together to knock them unconscious.

“We need to get out of here,” Ares said, casting a look at Obi-Wan’s duel with Pre Vizsla. Mandalorian reinforcements were on their way. They _really_ needed to get out of here. “Come with me, Duchess,” the captain ran into the ship’s cockpit.

“What about Obi-Wan?” she asked, her concern for his safety almost rivalling the Jedi’s concern for hers.

“I’ll fly low. He’ll jump on,” said Ares, firing up the craft’s engines. He pushed the button to keep the entry doors open for Obi-Wan and grabbed the steering handles to fly. A moment later, the boy felt someone jump onto the craft and the Duchess left the cockpit to attend to Obi-Wan and have their reunion. The yellow blaster fire aimed for them as they made their escape.

When they were safe in deep space, Obi-Wan walked into the cockpit and collapsed into the co-pilot’s seat. “Here. Have it back. I got mine,” he said, giving Ares back his father’s sabre.

“So much for an extinct warrior race,” said Ares, clipping the weapon onto his belt and steering them towards the Mandalorian capital of Sundari.

[][][]

Ares never thought he would miss a clone face so much. Heck, he was even happy to see Skywalker’s. They had arrived to report for escort duty of the Duchess to Coruscant so that she could plead her case for Mandalore to the Senate. Schemes, secret armies, and false pacifists had proven to be an exhausting combination for the young boy.

“You okay, kid?” Cody asked, seeing the expression on his captain’s face.

“Pacifists are exhausting. Take me back to a battlefield,” Ares said with a groan and that made Rex laugh.

“Tough luck, kid. We’re protecting the Duchess on her journey to Coruscant,” said Rex, clapping a hand on the boy’s slumped shoulder.

“Great so Coruscant, possible assassins and escort duty. My three favourite things,” Ares said with dread. “All I want to do is dismantle droids, depose Separatists and win battles. Why is it so hard to stick to those three hobbies? Is it really too much to ask for?”

“A good soldier follows his orders,” said Cody.

“Wait, commander,” said Rex, holding his hand up to stop Ares from speaking. “ _I’m not a soldier!”_ he said, imitating the young boy’s voice to patronizing effect. Both clones burst into laughter at the expense of the growling adolescent.

“Men!” Skywalker’s booming voice brought the amusement to a halt and the clone soldiers boarded their ship, _The Coronet._

“Men is being kind. Immature 10-year-olds is more apt,” growled Ares to them, as they boarded the ship.

[][][]

The generals debriefed their troops in the cargo-hold of _The Coronet._ Their mission was to protect the Duchess from any potential assassins, Separatist or otherwise. Personally, Ares didn’t understand why CL-Y had to be away for this mission. She had been sent with his and Kenobi’s starfighters separately because the two small ships were too large for the cargo-hold. That droid was literally designed to detect assassins and equipped with advanced scanners for optimum result, but whatever. _Not like I’m bitter or paranoid or anything._

When the general and Ares were in the lift, travelling to the Duchess’ apartments to join her court, Ares was surprised to hear that Anakin was also able to sense Kenobi’s anxieties about the Duchess. Kenobi glared at the boy from the corner of his eye.

“…She couldn’t be in safer hands,” said Anakin.

“Yes, I know,” said Obi-Wan.

“Then… why?”

“Never mind… it’s all in the past,” said Obi-Wan, praying to put an end to the subject. There was nothing worse than setting a bad example of one’s values in front of two students who resisted those values the most.

“Oh, so you’re close to her?” Anakin had the same prodding, insistent curiosity about the subject that Ares had. The eldest Jedi Master responded to Skywalker the same way that he did to Ares: losing his temper.

“I knew her!” barked Kenobi. “A long time ago. And we are not going to talk about it.”

Casting a look at the young captain, who was making the non-verbal hand signal for a retreat, Skywalker didn’t push any further. They arrived at the court right as the Duchess was giving her guests a long monologue about the sinfulness of war. As Kenobi advanced to confront the pacifist views, Ares felt his arm being squeezed and saw Skywalker pulling him back.

“What’s going on with Obi-Wan and the Duchess?” Skywalker asked, his piercing blue gaze searching the boy’s thoughts.

Ares blocked the weak attempt at telekinesis. His father had taught him how to and Skywalker wasn’t very good at it anyway. “I don’t know. You’ve been his apprentice longer; you should know more than me!” Ares hissed back.

“Allow me to introduce my fellow Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker!” Kenobi’s voice brought the two young men out of their verbal spar. Skywalker stepped forward and took a bow for the Duchess.

“Your servant, my lady,” said the Jedi, chivalrously.

Satine regarded him with scepticism. “I remember a time when Jedi were not generals, but peacekeepers.”

“We are protectors, Highness—” began Skywalker.

“Yours at the moment,” interrupted Kenobi and so began the battle of the century as the Jedi and Duchess unleashed years of pent-up desire through screaming at one another’s views of peace. Ares sought out a waiter, took two glasses of wine and gave one to Skywalker so that they could both watch the show.

Obi-Wan and Satine were separated by an oblivious Senator’s asking for cooler, rested heads to prevail in this debate. Kenobi was followed to his chambers by his two friends. Skywalker started probing as soon as he was permitted.

“You and Satine have a history,” Skywalker stated the obvious.

Kenobi made a defeated sound. He was exhausted fighting both of them. “An extended mission when I was younger. Master Qui-Gon and I spent a year on Mandalore protecting the Duchess from insurgents who had threatened her world. They sent bounty hunters after us. We were always on the run, living hand-to-mouth never sure what the next day would bring.”

 _Watch and learn how you get Obi-Wan to talk, young one,_ Ares felt the words being sent to him from the Chosen One and scowled.

“Sounds romantic,” said Skywalker. _Is it?_ Ares thought to himself. Is it romantic to spend 10 odd years pinning after someone and being unable to move on? Unrequited love, was it romantic? If anything, it sounded sad and pathetic and— Ares froze. Obi-Wan’s love story horrified him and he knew why. It was becoming an eerily familiar tale.

“Yes, quiet. A civil war killed most of Satine’s people, hence her aversion to violence. When she returned, she took to rebuilding her world alone,” said Obi-Wan.

“You didn’t stay to help her?” Anakin asked. Ares watched the Knight. He could feel him pouring his own feelings into this conversation. _We both are,_ Ares noted to himself.

“That would have been problematic,” said Kenobi with a sigh. “My duty as a Jedi demanded I be elsewhere. I live by the Jedi Code.” _Where have I heard that before?_ Ares thought, huffingly.

“Out of curiosity, what would have happened if you did forsake the Code. You obviously had feelings for her. What if you chose her?” said Ares. He was up to his wit’s end with the Force-forsaken code and vows. Anakin and Obi-Wan both looked at him, strangely, as if surprised that the thought would have occurred to the captain.

“At best, I would have been expelled from the order,” said Kenobi. “Had I been deemed dangerous by the Jedi Council, I might have been executed.”

“What?!” Ares was surprised. He had not known this was a consequence.

“If the Jedi Council deemed that I was on the path to the dark side and a danger to the galaxy, they would have executed me. As Jedi, we wield immense power and to corrupt that power is a danger to all life in the galaxy. Likely, that verdict wouldn’t have been passed for something as trivial as having feelings for someone, but that is a possibility for all Jedi when they disobey,” Kenobi’s eyes looked sternly at Anakin and then his gaze landed meaningfully on Ares. “Do you know why Jedi take the rule of no attachment so seriously?”

“Some old, forgotten, celibate monk told you to?” Ares guessed. Anakin snickered and Kenobi glared. It seemed he’d need to teach both of his pupils an important lesson.

“No. Attachments are selfish. Selfishness will cause you to choose your own interests over the betterment of the universe – a lesson I don’t think I imparted on my former padawan well enough if he finds that funny,” said Obi-Wan, pointedly at Anakin before turning his attention back at the captain. “Do not think that this lesson was aimed at you, captain. You’ve repeatedly and proudly stated that you’re not a Jedi. Form all the selfish attachments that you have the right to make, but do not, under any circumstances, tempt _others_ to make them.”

Those words rung through Ares’ head for the rest of the journey to Coruscant. His mind wandered, without his consent, to a certain Togruta girl. What was his end goal? What was he trying to accomplish when he made his flirtations? Did he want to sleep with her? He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t have those thoughts. Constantly. But the proposition wouldn’t come up, even if he was the one making it. It would be as firm a ‘no’ if he had propositioned a nun… a very pretty, fiery, witty nun. The boy physically shook his head. _Get out of my head,_ he thought and squeezed his eyes shut. As if to spite him, an impure vision plastered itself inside his eyelids. _I hate my brain._

[][][]

Kenobi and Ares came into the dining room where the Duchess was holding her court for dinner. The waiters had just placed down a delicious meal on the table.

“I beg your pardon, Senators. Our men are investigating a situation below decks. I respectfully ask you to wait here until it is settled,” Kenobi informed the Senators as he and Ares took a seat at the table. A few minutes later, their commlinks beeped with Skywalker’s channel. They rose to go to the corner of the room and hear what the general had found in private – an open, empty container and two missing men. It didn’t take long for things to get worse still.

“Obi-Wan! Ares! There are assassin probes down here! One made it up the lift. I’ll try to hold the others here!” Anakin screamed at his two friends.

“Quickly! Secure the lifts!” Kenobi ordered the royal guards, taking up a position to protect the Senators and Duchess. Ares ran to help the guards seal the doors shut, but the probe’s sharp talons pried them open. The spider-like machine with its gleaming red eyes crawled inside and made quick work of the royal guards.

Kenobi and Ares ignited their lightsabres. Ares sliced at the droid’s sharp pincers and, now being disabled and slower, enabled Kenobi to pierce his blade into its red eyes, rendering it dysfunctional.

“Well… that was easy,” said Ares.

“Yes, too easy,” said Kenobi. As if hearing the Jedi’s prediction, the probe’s head suddenly expelled a small army of tiny probes that had the same viciousness as their parent. “Get behind me!” Kenobi yelled at Satine, taking a defensive position of his Duchess, and cutting up the droids. Ares aimed to protect the rest of the senators, slicing the small droids with skill.

The Duchess almost disproved her pacifist tendencies when she pulled out a gun, but that turned out to just be a deactivator.

“Just like that swarm of venom-mites on Draboon, remember?” Kenobi reminisced once their little assassins were all destroyed.

Ares turned his ears away, likely to be sick for the nostalgic sentiments of the two adults. He turned to the Senators. “Are you alright, Senators?” he asked them.

“Splendid, sir,” said Senator Farr, catching his breath from the fright. Ares nodded and went around checking that they were all truly dead.

[][][]

“It appears one of our senators is a traitor,” said Obi-Wan to his captain as he brought in a container clothed in red silk.

“I hope you have a plan then,” said Ares, glancing at the mystery container.

“Follow my lead,” said Kenobi as he advanced on the dinner table, presenting the squirming little droid trapped in a glass box. “… My theory is our little friend will attack the Duchess and anyone who defends her. Anyone, that is… except the traitor who programmed it.” The Duchess was displeased and ordered him to take it away, but Kenobi was determined to discover the traitor. “I assure our pacifist Duchess that all is under control. I’m trying to expose a bigger threat…” he said as be brought it around the room. Ares was close on his heels. “Interesting… it seems to display unusual hostility towards the Honourable Kin Robb, but it seems to like you, Senator Merrik. Well, prince?” Kenobi grinned at the young senator.

“Really, General Kenobi. You’re quite clever!” Senator Merrik said.

The Senator jerked up, slamming the plate with the assassin droid at Kenobi, who scrambled to kill it before it could strike the Duchess. The Senator did not account that the young captain was behind him who instantly knocked the man out with the butt of his lightsabre to the head. “Easy there, Senator. Why such haste?” Ares took out a pair of handcuffs from his belt and secured the traitor.

“Are you alright?” Obi-Wan tended to the Duchess.

“Fine,” she murmured, using the hand proffered to her by her knight in shining armour. “I… don’t believe it. Merrik has been my constant companion!” She said, looking at his unconscious form.

Ares clicked his commlink. “General Skywalker, Tal Merrik is the traitor. We have him under control. How are those assassin droids doing?”

“I’ve put clones on every station to watch out for them. You and Obi-Wan stay with the Duchess until we get to Coruscant!”

“Copy that,” said Ares.

[][][]

They arrived to Coruscant without further incident. After the Duchess thanked him, Ares and Skywalker instinctively found their places by Kenobi’s side.

“What was that all about?” Skywalker chuckled, putting an elbow on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. The older man smiled broadly. “A very remarkable woman,” added Skywalker.

“She is indeed,” agreed Kenobi and the three men watched her depart, each one thinking of their own remarkable women.

Ares shook his head. He needed to get rid of these thoughts. “Excuse me, generals. I have something I need to attend to.” He saluted both and took off.

What do you do when you feel unbridled lust for someone you couldn’t have? One option was to watch them longingly walk away from you, like Ares watched Obi-Wan do. The boy doubted that he had the Jedi Master’s strength of restraint.

[][][]

Ares made sure that he never went anywhere on Coruscant without CL-Y, but his next destination had warranted some debate. _Perhaps brining his military-grade droid to this establishment was a mistake_ , he thought as he stood at the entrance. He glanced down at the astromech that looked at him with sheer loyalty in it’s one mechanical eye.

She beeped at him. “No, I’m not nervous,” he said. “Just… don’t tell anyone we’ve been here… and make sure no one tries to kill me.” He adjusted the hood over his head. She beeped at him. “Yeah, I know that’s literally your programming.” He walked through with a frustrated flare and billow of the cloak.

Inside, there was one Twi’lek girl, who looked distinctly bored, behind a reception desk. She saw him and interest sparked in her eyes. “Hello, sir. How may I help you?”

He crooked an eyebrow. “I believe a place like this can help only in one way.”

She giggled, falsely but prettily. “Let me show you our range. I am afraid that we don’t allow droids here. Your astromech will need to wait elsewhere.”

“If I pay you extra, will you turn a blind eye?” he asked, dropping some Republic credits onto the counter with a clatter. 

She scooped them up and didn’t say anything on the subject again. She then passed him a datapad with all the lists and he looked through very quickly. He knew exactly what he wanted and showed her the picture. She nodded and led him to an empty room on the third floor of the building.

“Make yourself comfortable, sir,” she said, closing the door behind her.

Ares sighed deeply. His mind was racing, and his heart was pounding violently. CL-Y made concerned sounds.

“It’s nothing,” he assured. “Here, take these and keep them safe for me.” He unclipped his lightsabre and military badge and handed them to the droid to store in her little red and gold body. “And keep guard outside.” She beeped with agreement and rolled out.

He took a deep breath and sat down. His fingers pressed on his eyes. There was a gnawing feeling in the corner of his brain, but there was a worse feeling elsewhere. For once in his life, he didn’t want to force his will on those who did not want it, but that still left the problem of his desires and his strong feelings. Ahsoka would become a great Jedi one day.

 _It’s just lust,_ he thought to himself. _Your feelings for her are not real. A silly teenage crush. Hormones. Lust. Fascination with an exotic species. Like a thirst that needs to be quenched and then it will go away. You can’t… you shouldn’t hurt her. She’s your friend. Asking her to choose between hot feelings or prosperous destiny would only hurt and confuse her. You shouldn’t hurt your friend, Ares. Cleanse away the feelings. Break free from your chains._

The doors opened and a young woman walked in. She was a Togruta with vibrant red skin, white titanium markings, and vivid, green eyes. The bright purple stripes on her lekku and montrals indicated her age was about 20. She wore very little clothes as her profession dictated and her body was slender smooth. Ares’ breath caught in his throat and he stood up.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She looked at him with a curious look. “Ashla,” she said and approached him. “What’s a pretty boy like you doing here?”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

“Are you even old enough?” she asked with a flirtatious teasing smile. She began to undress him without his answer and was startled when she found his metal left hand. “Where did you lose this?”

He jerked it away from her. “Less questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Men love to tell about their glories, but if you prefer not to talk then I can respect that.” She got down to business almost immediately. She kissed him firmly. The instincts of an adolescent boy kicked in and he pushed out all the doubts in his mind. His strong arms snaked their way around her frame and nature had her way.

Sometime later, he lay there with exhaustion pumping through his lungs. She was warm, pressed against him, skin on skin. He found her lips easily and hungrily. Hedonism was the greatest of sins.

“You have something to say,” he commented, his force senses tingling irritatingly.

“…It’s not my place,” she replied.

“Say it,” he insisted.

“Your mind was occupied,” she said. “Men come to me for many reasons, but you’re the first one to come to me… not for me.”

“That’s a little narcissistic,” he said with a chuckle, but she didn’t make any sign of amusement.

She stretched and stood up, conscious that his eyes trailed the curve of her body, the slenderness of her lekku arching against her back. “My work here is done. You can pay at reception.”

“Wait!” he shot up out of bed. Her felt her victorious smile without even seeing her face. “What if I bought you for the whole night?”

“It would be my pleasure,” she said. “But it would cost you double.” He nodded in agreement. She made a move to climb back onto him.

“Just one question though…” he said, grabbing her hands in his own. “Did you enjoy it?”

She giggled, prettily. “You’re a strange one. Men like you don’t care about that,” she said.

“Men like me?” he asked.

“Soldiers… think they’re entitled to feel good,” she said, her finger lightly tracing the scars of his torso, some faded and some fairly recent.

“Well, we can’t break from stereotypes, can we?” he said, sarcastically. “Think of my inquiry as… assessing my virility. Show me how you enjoy it.”

She giggled in that pretty way. “You’re funny,” she said. Taking control of his hands, she guided them up. “My species derive their pleasure from our lekku. They are sensitive and so have a few key erogenous areas.” She showed him and taught him. “It’s not just about what’s down there. It’s what up here too.”

She began moaning erotically in his grip. Her back arched in his grasp and she became a hot, writhing mess in his hands; a sculpted, moaning beauty. She begged for him and he obliged her. Her moans alone fired him with frenzy.

[][][]

Ashla was asleep when he woke up in the darkness of early morning. The sky was pitch black. He crawled out of her embrace and put his clothes on. He needed to get back to the Temple.

Ares payed his bill at the reception and he left with his droid in tow. “Yes, I know it took me a long time,” he said, after the droid scolded him. “What’s it to you? You don’t even have a conception of time, droid!” She beeped with sass and gave him his lightsabre and military badge. He covered his face with the Jedi robe hood.

His path to the higher levels of Coruscant was cut short by flashing blue and red lights. “Subject identified as Duchess Satine! Hold!” The voices were robotic. Ares turned to see four police droids speeding after a cloaked figure who was unmistakably the Duchess of Mandalore.

“Guess, home will have to wait,” said Ares with a sigh. “CL-Y, fly back to the Temple. Tell Kenobi that his girlfriend is being pursued by the police. Keep in contact!” Ares ran after the Duchess, whilst his droid obeyed him.

“Stop in the name of the authorities!” shouted the droids in pursuit.

Ares focused on the force and crushed the droid’s heads together. He never really understood why Coruscant was being policed by droids that were as threatening as a mouse droid.

“Duchess!” He called out to the scared woman. “Duchess Satine, it’s me, Ares. Stop running! You’re safe now!”

She stopped and looked at her rescuer. “Captain Ares? What are you doing here?”

A red blush shot into the boy’s face as he heard that question. “I… saw you in trouble, Duchess, so I’ve come to your aid. General Kenobi would never forgive me if I let you get hurt, Your Highness.”

“How gentlemanly,” said the Duchess. “I could use some help. I’m being pursued by Republic law enforcement and an assassin because I carry important information that will stop a Republic invasion of Mandalore.”

Ares sighed and nodded. “Yep, that sounds like a normal Tuesday day for me.” He came closer to the Duchess and offered her the crook of his arm. “It’s not safe here for you, Duchess. Let’s get you out of here.”

“My thanks, captain,” she said and accepted his arm.

They went to a crowded diner that was familiar to Kenobi and his captain and was home to many suspicious faces. Ares had reasoned that it was not a place for a Duchess and so no one would be looking for her here. They took a seat at a table and Ares ordered some tea for them to have while they waited for Kenobi to get to them.

Kenobi rushed in with his own Jedi cloak as his disguise. He found Ares with ease and joined them at their seats.

“Seeing you alive is… well, it’s quite a relief,” said Kenobi to Satine, his blue eyes were beaming. “I got your message,” he told Ares.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” said Ares, standing up and walking over to the bar to pay for the bill. Some clones walked in to do their rounds of the place and inform the civilians for a wanted woman. Ares looked at the unsuspecting huddling couple. “Troopers! Boys in White! Come, let me buy you a drink!” he tried acting extra drunk.

Kenobi and the Duchess saw his call and the clones. Subtly, they left the bar as the clones approached the captain.

“Captain?” one of them said. “Are you alright?”

“Join me for a drink, boys! What are your names?” Ares shouted at them, trying to slur his words.

“We can’t, sir. We have orders. Have you see this woman?” The trooper showed him a picture of Duchess Satine.

He shook his head drunkenly. “Nope. Haven’t seen her.”

“Uh…” the clone looked at the captain unsurely. “Would you like to be taken back to the Jedi Temple, captain?”

“No! Don’t you dare! I have… scars and trauma to drink through, clone!”

“Who’s your commanding officer, sir?” one of the clones asked.

“G…. General -hic- Ken -hic- Kenobi!” He said and imitated a salute.

The clones nodded. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, captain,” the other said with the intention of contacting the general to come and pick up the drunk teenager.

They left the bar and Ares returned to his normalcy. His commlink buzzed.

“Nice performance, captain,” Kenobi’s voice said to him. “Satine and I are on our way to the Senate and –” Kenobi was cut off with the sound of a punch.

“Obi-wan?” Ares asked. “General, come in!” Silence. “Ah, just great.” The boy ran out of the bar to get to their location. He found Obi-Wan in a fist fight with a Mandalorian warrior and his lightsabre discarded.

Igniting his own blade, Ares force jumped and kicked the helmet of the warrior, knocking him out. “That’s twice now, general,” Ares said with a smirk. “This weapon is your life! How many times must I tell you?”

Kenobi ignored the patronisation. “Ares, you take our friend to the Jedi Temple and have them interrogate him. The Duchess and I need to get to the Senate before they vote for the invasion of Mandalore.”

Ares sighed. “I always get the fun job. Oh, and expect a call from some troopers saying that I’m drunk and delusional in a sleezy bar.”

“Got it,” said Kenobi as he ran off with his Duchess towards the Senate building.

“Alright, come on, scum,” said Ares as he pulled up the Mandalorian warrior and force lifted him. “I’m tired. Today has been a very long day. I’d like to get this over with quickly.”

A few hours later, Ares found himself in his own room after having submitted the assassin warrior to the Jedi Council for questioning. When his commlink beeped with Kenobi’s channel, Ares could have screamed. Uninterrupted sleep couldn’t have been too much to ask for when off a battlefield. “Yes, general?”

“Captain Ares,” it was the Duchess’ voice. “I just wanted to thank you for your selfless assistance. You have done a great service to Mandalore and the Republic today. I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“It was my pleasure, my lady,” Ares said.

“Know that you will always have an ally in Mandalore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to leave a COMMENT on what you thought about the chapter.


	10. Son of Darkness, Daughter of Light

#  **Chapter 10 – Son of Darkness, Daughter of Light**

“Master Kenobi says that you harness strength from the fear and anger of others. Is this true?” asked Master Windu. The Jedi Council had assembled to question Ares about his new disturbing abilities, which seemed a bit drastic to the young captain. They had always known he was a student of the dark arts. Why were they so surprised by this phenomenon?

“That’s the gist of the dark side, masters,” replied Ares with a sigh. “What do you expect from me? To suddenly become a light warrior because I spend so much time with Jedi Knights? You’ve denied me training and, at the same time, you expect me to fight this war. Yes, I will use my abilities to protect my men and do what it takes to survive.”

He could feel their fear, not of him, but of what he represented: the darkness allowed into the light. A living, walking, breathing symbol of the Jedi’s uncertainty of the Force. His newfound abilities probably didn’t help. It was forbidden for the Jedi to study the dark arts and so none could assess how dangerous his abilities were.

“Master Kenobi believe do you that dangerous this power is?” asked Yoda. “Spent the most time with young Ares you have.”

Kenobi glanced at his young captain. “With all due respect, masters, Ares has proven on many occasions to be a worthy ally to our cause. He has saved mine and my men’s lives many times in battle and off it. He’s a good young man. These new powers have been very useful in this war so far,” said Kenobi.

Ares watched as Kenobi was able to convince a majority of the Jedi Council members to his way of thinking, but even then, the boy felt anger build up in his chest. He left as soon as it was permissible and ran into Skywalker who was on his way to receive new orders.

“Hey buddy, what’s going on?” Skywalker addressed the captain who was visibly fuming.

“Nothing,” Ares hissed, his rage stinging. “The Council’s arrogance and entitlement is immeasurable. If they had a shred of self-awareness, they would realise that loyalty is a gift, not a right.”

Skywalker gave a concerned look. “What’s going on?”

“I’m being treated with suspicion for using the dark arts,” Ares said. “One has to ask themselves, what were they expecting from the son of a Sith Lord?”

Obi-Wan walked up to them, oblivious to the distress of his young captain. “Where’s your padawan, Anakin? Ares, have you told him about our mission?”

“What mission?” Skywalker asked.

Kenobi’s obliviousness made the teenager even more angry. There was savagery in his eyes, but he swallowed the raw words that were itching to be screamed at the Master. “I’m going to go blow off some steam before we depart,” said Ares, stomping off to the training arena of the Temple.

“What’s with him?” asked Kenobi, dubious.

“Stormy mood swings tend to happen when the Council decides to distrust one of their allies,” replied Skywalker, crossing his arms. “Or when one’s mentor decides to rat them out.”

“’Rat them out’? Anakin, I had to tell the council and we had to get to the bottom of this!” Obi-Wan retorted. “And besides, I defended him. He’s been allowed to use those powers in times of war.”

“There’s better ways to do that than to make him a felon before judges. It’s undignified. And we’re at war, Obi-Wan. Standard Jedi procedures don’t apply anymore. Drastic measures need to be taken,” said Skywalker.

“You’re singing a very different tune than the one you had when you met him,” Obi-Wan remarked. “Let’s not get into this moral debate right now. We have a mission to do. A 2,000-year-old Jedi distress call has been received by the Jedi. We need to go investigate it. Go find your student and a ship we can borrow.”

“You got it, master,” said Anakin.

[][][]

“Hey,” a familiar girl’s voice brought Ares out of his thoughts. He had boarded the instructed shuttle for their next mission and waited, still steaming with rage at the Council and his general. He had not noticed the Togruta girl walk in. “You alright?” she asked, sensing his dark mood.

When he turned his head to look at her, his face immediately burned with a flaming blush. In that moment, he realised how much he had messed up. This was going to be agony. “Ah-Ahsoka! Hi, hi! How are you doing?” his brooding demeanour immediately fell into a scrambling mess. His mind seared with the image of Ashla and the things he had done a few nights ago.

She crooked a white brow-marking. It was strange for him to be nervous. Usually she blushed, but now he was the one sporting an absurd shade of red. They hadn’t even had a conversation yet.

“What’s wrong? Why are you being weird?” she asked. If it was possible, Ares’ eyes dilated more, and his blush became harsher. He put his elbow on the control panel only for it to fall off and make him look weirder.

“Weird? What do you mean weird? There’s nothing weird here,” he babbled as he tried to reign in his mind’s imagination. This was agony. He had never felt so much shame for something in his life. Her lack of knowledge of what was going on made it even worse. It’s not like he could tell her the truth.

“O-kay…” Ahsoka looked at him unsurely, as if she was seeing a crazy person.

“Read to go, Snips? Captain?” asked Skywalker, as he and Obi-Wan walked into the shuttle. The general immediately went to the pilot’s seat with Kenobi as his co-pilot.

“Yes, master,” she replied.

Ares thought this would be the end of the conversation and swivelled on his chair to turn away, but the padawan grabbed his shoulder in a deathly grip and pulled him to the back of the ship. She put a finger to her lips to tell him not to make noise. She shut the door behind them.

With nowhere else to run, Ares was forced to look at her properly for the first time in a while. _She’s changed_ , he thought, wretchedly. Serving in different battalions and often going weeks or months without seeing one another had made the changes of her body more prominent. _Ahsoka had hit puberty_ , he realised _, but why did she have to do it this week?_ The baby fat around her cheeks and face was gone. Her lips had become plump and dark, like succulent forest berries. She was a few inches taller and her montrals and lekku had grown out. She had discarded the tank top in favour of a more mature attire that covered more of her body. Needless to say, she was curving more, and Ares had to will his perverse imagination away with excruciating force.

She had been pretty before; he had never denied it. Now, he would dare say that she was beautiful. 

_Restraint,_ he mentally hissed, disgusted with himself. _Have some force-damned self-restraint. You’re not an animal, damnit!_ He instead chose to focus on her eyes and feared that he was overdoing it with his unblinking stare.

“Something’s different,” he said, trying to seem to be more at ease. “You changed your hair?”

She gave him an unamused look. “There, you’re normal again. The stupid jokes are back. Will you stop being weird now?” she said. “You like it?” She looked down at her new appearance.

Ares’ eyes remained exactly where they were supposed to, not taking the invitation to look below her eyeline. He groaned inside. “So, what’s up?”

Her face took on a serious expression. “I need to tell you something. I’ve been meaning to talk to you for days – where the hell have you been?” she said, simply. She spoke and acted as if nothing had changed and most likely hadn’t even noticed. Ares tried to numb his brain and not say anything. Where and on whom he had spent his days and wages was not something for polite conversation with pretty padawans. “You have got to stop being weird,” said Ahsoka, after a beat of silence lasted too long. 

“I’ll… try,” said Ares, in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice. 

“You’ve been on Mandalore, so I don’t suppose that you heard, but I escorted Senator Amidala to Raxus—" said Ahsoka.

Suddenly, everything that was fizzing in his brain stopped. “Wait, what?” Ares asked.

“Senator Amidala wanted to end the war with peace talks with the Separatists instead of buying more clones from the Kaminoans. So, we went to Raxus to speak to Senator Bonterri and I kind of had dinner with your sister,” said Ahsoka, trying to get all the information out quickly.

Ares looked like he was going to kill her. “Do you realize you-you… you could be in so much trouble!” Ares whisper-hissed, glancing at the pilot cockpit where the two Jedi Knights were. “What were you thinking?!”

“It was a diplomatic mission! We just didn’t know that the Bonterri’s were such close friends with your sister! She just kind of… accidentally came to dinner,” Ahsoka whisper-hissed back at him, defensively.

“Yeah, no shit!” Ares hissed. His face contorted in concerned rage. “Mina Bonterri practically raised us. Her son was our best friend when we were children! You should have told me what you were doing!”

“Ok, firstly, you were on Mandalore and, secondly, when you go on a secret, illegal, diplomatic mission behind enemy lines, you don’t tend to go around telling everybody!” Ahsoka said.

“I’m not _everybody_!” Ares hissed angrily, and then checked his words. “I’m your friend… I’m your Raxilian friend!”

She crooked a white brow-marking. “Ares ‘of Serenno’?”

He glared at her. “If you must know, it’s very difficult to change your nobiliary particle when your father is the Head of State!” he whisper-hissed. “Did the Jedi Council catch you?”

“Yeah… I had to serve three days of punishment: library guard duty again—,” said Ahsoka rolling her eyes.

“Library guard duty? You had dinner with the commander of the enemy forces! How the hell did you get such a light punishment?!” Ares said, appalled.

She waved off his question. “…But they weren’t the only ones who found out. Your sister… also… kind of caught on pretty fast,” Ahsoka said, awkwardly.

Ares face-palmed himself and growled. “You’re such an idiot. You could have been killed! How did you escape?”

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. She kind of… let me go home free… and… she even let me sit in a Separatist Parliament session,” Ahsoka retold the full story of the encounter.

The boy watched her while she spoke, smouldering with both envy and sorrow. How he wished he could have been there, sitting at the Bonterri table with his sister and best friend as if the war or his exile had never happened. How he wished he could go back to his beloved home, Raxus.

“She told me to tell you that she loves you…” the boy shut his eyes. The pain of loss came flooding back. He had spent a lot of credits to numb that pain. Why did he have to feel this again?! “…and for you to never come back to Raxus or the Confederacy. She said that for your own safety, you shouldn’t betray the Jedi or the Republic. There’s no place for you in Separatist ranks.”

Ares let out a strange laugh. It sounded like a fitting joke that the twins would still be looking out for one another even from the opposite sides of a war. “Yeah, no shit, sis,” he said, simply. “I’m in too deep to do that.”

“Just in case you were having ideas,” Ahsoka said, warningly. Ares gave her a sarcastic look and flexed his metal hand’s fingers to show off the price he paid to Count Dooku. The padawan raised her hands up, defensively. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“How… how was she?” Ares asked, wincing. Concern for the enemy in front of one’s allies was frowned upon, but the enemy was still his twin sister and said ally’s recent crimes were much worse than his words. “Is she… how is she?”

“She looked tired, grieved. I never met a Separatist that I sympathised with before – your sister and the Bonterris were the first,” said Ahsoka. “I can understand why you have such confused feelings about fighting her. She wasn’t just your sister, right? She was your best friend too. I only spent a little bit of time with her, but I imagine it must be very difficult for you.”

The wound was still so fresh. “Thank you for your message, even if what you did was incredibly reckless and unfathomably stupid.”

“There’s… something else that you should know,” Ahsoka’s voice was cautious, as if she knew that she was going to hurt him. She avoided his eyes. “Mina Bonterri… she managed to get the peace talks through the Separatist Parliament, but… then someone must have not liked that proposition.”

“Wait, what? What are you saying?” Somehow, deep down, he already knew. “Just say it!”

“Mina Bonterri is dead,” Ahsoka said the dreaded, heavy words.

At first, Ares stood stunned and silent. His brain unable to correctly process the words or the feelings. Mina Bonterri had been like a mother to him: a warm, caring figure watching out for the well-being of children and loving those that weren’t loved enough. So many memories flashed before his eyes: applying disinfectant to a scrapped knee, ruffling his hair, watching the holonet together, embracing him moments before he would board a ship to Serenno, treating him to home-baked treats, watching them on the swings in her backyard. It was inconceivable that she could be dead!

“That’s… that’s impossible,” he said, but even as he did, he already knew. He had felt it. “Who killed her? What sort of creature could do such a thing?! What kind of… _monster_!?” He was angry. His force signature was in flames.

“I don’t… know. Pallas publicly blamed the Republic, but that can’t be true. No one even knew what happened. It had to be someone in the Separatist government who wants the war to continue,” said Ahsoka, sympathising with Ares’ loss. Even in the short time Ahsoka spent with her, Mina was a wonderful woman. She reached out to touch his shoulder. “…I’m so sorry, Ares.”

He shrugged away from her touch. He didn’t want to be pitied, especially not by her.

“I… I need to meditate…” he said, quietly. “Just…” he had no words. Just waved his hand and retreated to the bunk room so that he could have time to mourn his new sorrow. To be so young and to have so much taken from him already was… there were no words for it.

[][][]

Ares didn’t remember falling asleep, but when he woke up the ship had already landed. He groaned as he got up. The doors of the cockpit opened, and the three Jedi came out.

“Up and at em’, captain,” said Skywalker as he walked past. Ares rolled his eyes and followed them outside to the greenery.

The place was strange. It was very strong with the light side of the force, which made Ares feel deeply uncomfortable. The greenery was unfamiliar. There was no sun and yet it was daylight. He looked around and saw rocks that were just floating in the air of their own accord. “Where are we?” asked Ares.

“We don’t know,” said Obi-Wan.

“What do you mean? Who landed the ship?” Ares asked.

“That’s the thing… we all lost consciousness. We thought you landed the ship, but you seemed as out cold as the rest of us,” said Anakin.

“What do you mean ‘no one landed the ship’?!” Ares shouted at the Jedi. His eyes landed on Ahsoka and Kenobi. Their concerned looks at him made him back off and take a deep breath.

Obi-Wan took out a pair of binoculars and looked at their surroundings. As they were debating about what to do next, a voice with a strange echo spoke to them.

“Are you The One?” said the voice. The four of them turned to the source and found a strange creature. She looked like a beautiful human woman, but her long locks of hair were green, and she glowed with a bright beam, like an angel.

Ares felt that shiver in his spine. It was a sensation he got every time he was in the presence of a light-force user that he was unaccustomed to. This particular one was unusually strong with the light side of the Force. She was so bright that his head felt dizzy.

“Uh… what?” asked Anakin. “Who are you?”

“I am Daughter. Are you The One?” she asked again. When she spoke, it sounded as if she had two voices.

“’The One’ what?” asked Skywalker, rightfully.

“I will take you to Him,” she said, as if that made total sense.

“Him, who?” asked Ahsoka.

“Whose daughter are you?” asked Ares.

“Did you bring us here?” asked Kenobi. 

She chose to ignore their questions. “Only He can help you. There is little time. Follow me. We must have shelter by nightfall,” she said and started walking as if she knew they would mindlessly obey her.

Skywalker turned to his friends. “And we thought the planet was strange. How about this one?”

“Her communication skills are abysmal,” said Ares.

“We’ll be fine as long as we stay together,” said Kenobi, smiling warmly at his friends and they began their journey following The Daughter. She led them through rocky paths and mountains.

“Have any of you noticed the light side of the force is unusually strong with her? I actually feel dizzy,” Ares said and touched the side of his buzzing head.

“I feel it too…” said Obi-Wan. “It’s… soothing, warm.”

“Tranquil,” agreed Ahsoka.

“It’s really nice to know you three are having such a great time,” mumbled Ares, irritably. 

“Have you noticed the seasons seem to change with the time of day?” asked Kenobi. Skywalker agreed.

“And there are no animals,” added Ahsoka.

Anakin finally lost his patience with the Daughter. “Excuse me, who are you taking us to?” he asked.

“The Father, of course,” she said.

“Of course,” said Ahsoka, sarcastically.

“And what are you, exactly?” asked Kenobi.

“We are the ones who guard the power. We are the middle, the beginning and the end,” The Daughter replied.

“Glad she cleared that up,” Anakin mumbled to his friends.

The soft, seductive touch of darkness pricked Ares’ irritated senses and he immediately force pushed Obi-Wan and Ahsoka backwards and Anakin and the Daughter ahead. An avalanche of rocks plummeted down onto them. Ahsoka force pulled Ares towards her out of instinct. He tumbled into her and they both fell to the ground.

“Thanks for the save, commander,” Ares groaned aloud as he stood up and offered the padawan his hand, which she accepted.

“Ditto,” she replied.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was trying to reach his former padawan on the other side. “Anakin? Are you there? Are you alright?” Obi-Wan said to his commlink.

“Yeah, but our friend here has run off!” Anakin yelled to her. “Go back to the ship and try sending another distress call. I’ll follow her and find out how to get off this rock.”

“And if this is a trap?” asked Kenobi.

“Then I’m not gonna wait around to find out!” Anakin said, impatient.

“Anakin, stop! Wait for us to find another way around and meet you. Anakin?” Obi-Wan suggested, but the Jedi Knight was gone. The Master huffed in annoyance. “So reckless and impatient.”

“He’ll find her,” said Ahsoka, reassuringly.

“Yes, and what else?” said Obi-Wan. They began their journey back to the ship, which, when they returned to its location, was conspicuously missing.

“The ship’s gone!” Ahsoka said, indignantly.

“Yes, I see that,” replied Kenobi.

“It was here, no question,” Ahsoka said. “And look! Everything’s dying.” It was true. Their surrounding greenery was starting to wither and perish. It was the first time that Ares had noticed that his headache had stopped. He suddenly felt stronger with the Force.

A shadow rose out of the ground. “Did you lose something?” A voice like the Daughter’s but more masculine and darker echoed its soft baritone. A man with red eyes and shrouded in darkness approached them. Where The Daughter glowed, he seemed to absorb all the light in his surroundings and leave nothing but gloom. Things within his vicinity died. Ares ignited his lightsabre and pointed it at him, sensing the strength of the dark side with this being. “You don’t want to do that,” the man sneered at Ares before turning his attention to the two Jedi. “You didn’t do as you were asked.”

“And what was that?” asked Obi-Wan.

“My sister said to wait!” the dark man roared at them in his double voice.

“Did she now? Well, we were unfortunately separated. We’d like our ship back if you don’t mind,” said Obi-Wan, always the amicable one.

Their lack of fear of him seemed to enrage the man. “Not… yet!” He yelled at them and approached Kenobi. “Is it true that he is The Chosen One?”

That sparked the mistrust amongst the two Jedi and they turned their weapons on. “What do you know of such things?” demanded Kenobi.

“What is about to happen shall occur whether you like it or not,” he said.

“You are Sith!” Kenobi accused.

The dark man laughed. “Sith? Yes and no—”

“He’s not. Only a Master and an Apprentice there are, and he is neither. An imposter,” said Ares, concentrating on the dark shadow. The red eyes bore back into him.

“You are correct, son of the Sith, but I am so much more than a Sith. I am your overlord,” sneered the dark shadow. “The storms here are quite lethal. If you want to live, I suggest you find shelter.” The man force jumped up and transformed into a winged bat creature that flew away. Ares watched it soar, stunned.

“Son of the Sith? That’s a new one,” said Ahsoka.

“I’m not sure if I like it,” replied Ares.

The thunder rolled and acid rain poured. The three made their shelter in a nearby cave and took their opportunity to rest.

[][][]

“Ares… Ares… Ares!” a voice called out that jolted the boy out of his sleep.

Ares immediately scrambled up and grabbed his lightsabre. He had had enough of tricks from these weird force-wielders. There was a small fire that illuminated the cave and the boy’s eyes searched the place for the source of the voice.

“Did you make the right choice?” it said again.

Ares turned around and almost dropped his lightsabre. Sitting on a rock was a man Ares never thought he’d see again, Admiral Wodin. He was just as the boy had always remembered him. He was sporting the Confederate Admiral’s coat that was currently his sister’s prized possession though it lacked the blaster roles that had killed him. His salt and pepper beard and hair were evident even in his ghostly sparkle. Even in death, he had that erudite twinkle in his eyes as if he knew more than anyone else.

“Wodin? But you… You’re dead!” Ares gulped, pointing his blade at the man. “I was there at your funeral! I saw your body burn in the pyre!”

The old man stood up to approach the boy. He outstretched his arm to touch Ares’ lightsabre and the ghostly limb went straight through it, demonstrating the uselessness of the weapon. “Put your weapon away, my boy,” said the Admiral.

Ares kept his red blade ignited. “Prove that it is you.”

The old man crooked an eyebrow. “How can I prove that I am who I am?”

“My sister’s husband was a polymath. If you are him, name all the things he studied,” Ares demanded.

The old face was delighted. “Good, good. Use critical thinking; it’s a very useful skill, my boy. It will save your life,” the ghost said. “In the best chronological order that I can compile, I studied spatial, terrestrial and aquatic warfare, intergalactic politics, Corellian spaceships, moral ethics, Cato Neimoidian economy, Cartesian philosophy, Raxillian history, Skakoan bio-chemistry, Jedi psychology, Sith history, Geonosian mind-control, Dathomirian witchcraft, Togruta art and poetry, Felucian botany, Twi’leki sex trade, anthropomorphic anatomy, neurological surgery, droid mechanics, asteroid palaeontology, Coruscantean architecture, Huttian criminology and the Force.”

“It is you.” The young boy put his lightsabre away. “Why are you here, Wodin? H-how are you here?” asked Ares, awed.

“You’ve forgotten everything I’ve ever taught you, my boy,” said Wodin, a sudden sternness on his face. “I taught you to ask questions. I taught you to doubt. You’ve become what I’ve always feared: a blind follower. How could you have forgotten me so easily, Ares?”

“Not this again,” Ares groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Wodin, I can’t keep asking myself if I’m a brain-in-vat or living in a simulation forever. It’s… exhausting.”

“Be warned! The Republic is not to be trusted,” said Wodin. His voice a deep, terrifying boom. “Be warned of The Chosen One for he will lead you astray if given the chance. The prophecy has been misread. He is not what they believe him to be. Be warned of his nature, for it is not his own!”

The voice of doom didn’t impress the boy. He had heard it often enough as a child from this particular mentor. “Wow, impartial much? You did my father’s dirty work. You, arguably, build the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Of course, you’re going to tell me that the Republic is wrong,” said Ares.

“Good,” said Wodin. “That’s a good start. Question partiality. Question motives. Question who profits. Question what you know. Question _everything_.”

“Wodin, just tell me what I need to do!” Ares asked, suddenly angry. “I’ve had enough of your stupid riddles, old man! Just spell it out!”

“Keep asking. Keep thinking critically. Search for knowledge and wisdom,” said Wodin.

Ares jerked awake and realized that it was all a vision. Kenobi and Ahsoka were at his sides, concerned. They had been trying to wake him up. “Ares? Are you alright?” asked Kenobi.

Ares sat up and looked around. He felt his face. All of it had been a vision. “Yeah… I just had the strangest vision,” he said as he stood up and went to the mouth of the cave to see if the storm had passed yet.

“Yeah, us too,” said Ahsoka. “This place is very strange.”

[][][]

“The longer we stay here, the stranger this place gets,” said Ahsoka. When the storm cleared, the three of them made their way out to find Skywalker.

Finding Skywalker was the only thing racing though Ares’ mind. The words of warning bounced around in his head. What about the Chosen One was not his nature? Ares shook his head. He didn’t know if Skywalker was the Chosen One for sure. Ghost or not, Wodin had always counselled critical thinking and it would be foolish to jump to conclusions because of a myth or a vision.

As he had been thinking, the boy felt the air in his lungs leave him. Suddenly, a creature with sharp claws grabbed hold of him and pulled him off the ground into the air. The boy screamed as his feet dangled several hundred feet above the earth. Carrying him was a massive, black, gargoyle creature. Beside him, a massive green and white griffin was carrying Ahsoka, who was having a similar experience of distress. They were being brought to some monastery where an old man seemed to be waiting for them with Skywalker beside him.

They landed with firm claws holding the two prisoners tightly. No amount of strength could unlatch them from the beastly grasp. Both teenagers had tried.

“What are you doing to them? Where’s Obi-Wan?” Skywalker asked an old man. He must have been The Father. 

“Your master is some distance away and it will take him some time to get here. I have ordered my children to kill your friends,” the old man told Skywalker. “Without your master and his guidance, which one will you choose: the Jedi or the Sith.”

“No!” Skywalker yelled out.

“Their powers are too strong for us, master!” Ahsoka yelled, struggling in The Daughter’s grasp. Ares wasn’t having much better luck with The Son. The massive gargoyle slashed a bloody gash on Ares’ breast with its sharp talons. 

“Let them go!” Anakin demanded.

“Only you can make my children release them,” replied The Father.

Even as The Son’s claws were wrapping around his throat and squeezing the air out of him, Ares could sense the anger flowing through the force as Skywalker willed the two creatures to release them. He forced the griffin and the gargoyle to fall onto their knees before him, like servants to a master.

The Father looked pleased, though not surprised. “And now you see who you truly are. Only the Chosen One could tame both my children.”

Despite those words being proclaimed, Ares was not convinced. It felt wrong that someone as strong-willed with the force and as self-righteous about his heroism as Skywalker should have a nature that was not his own.

Kenobi came running up to the monastery, finally having caught up. “Did I miss something?” he asked.

Ares and Ahsoka looked at one another. “We’ll explain later, master,” said Ahsoka.

“I’ve taken your test. Now fulfil your promise and let us go,” said Skywalker.

“Leave us, all of you,” commanded the Father.

[][][]

They were back on their ship. Kenobi was piloting with Ahsoka as his co-pilot. Skywalker was resting and Ares was meditating. He needed to find the truth of what he had seen. The boy tried to go deep into the dark side of the Force to find his answers. It had helped him before when he was trying to find the kidnapped children with Master Yoda. This shouldn’t have been any different, but he went deeper, where he should not have gone and to a place that he was not strong enough to control. The venom from his wound seemed to speak to him. 

_Can you hear me, Son of the Sith? Can you feel my power running through your veins? Can you sense the darkness? It is more powerful than you could ever begin to imagine. I’m the venom coursing through your veins now. Welcome to my true domain: the void of darkness. Did you honestly think you can come here and not pay the price? I’ve seen your soul, son of the Sith. I can mould it into its true potential. Potential that the Jedi never will attempt to or know how to. I know what you’ve always wanted. It’s what every servant of the dark side desires. I can give it to you. Bring me the girl that haunts you and I will give it to you. That will be our price._

Brown eyes opened and became gleaming ruby red.

“Ares?” Ahsoka’s voice made his head turn. She had sensed something was wrong and had come in to check. “What’s wrong?” Her question gained the attention of Skywalker, who had just woken up from his sleep, disturbed by a dark presence.

The boy stretched out his hand and forced her to lunge forward. He caught her throat firmly with his metal grip. The other hand shut the door of the cockpit and force opened the bottom hatch of the ship.

“Leaving so soon?” the boy spoke to Skywalker in a voice that did not belong to him. “Not without us you’re not,” he said.

Holding her tightly, he plummeted down into the abyss below. Ahsoka screamed and struggled, but they didn’t crash. The gargoyle caught them and carried them off. Piloted by an enraged Jedi Knight, the shuttle pursued them. The red-eyed creature flew past rocky canyons and tight crevices so that the ship couldn’t follow them.

“What are you doing?!” Ahsoka screamed at her captor.

They arrived into the abode of darkness, a horrible place rife with gloom and misery.

[][][]

“You can’t keep me here!” Ahsoka yelled as the ruby-eyed boy chained her to her prison. “Ares, if you’re in there, let me go!” She wasn’t even sure this was Ares. He had his form, but not his nature. It wasn’t the Ares she knew.

“Stop struggling. It is pointless,” he said in a stranger’s voice.

As he made his way out of the cell, the dark shadow that engulfed him faded, and the boy’s eyes rolled back. He fell in a faint.

“Ares!” Ahsoka screamed out, unable to do anything because of her chains.

A little rat and bat hybrid creature scurried into the room. “Save your energy. You have been left to die,” it told her. It stepped over Ares’ body and hobbled over to Ahsoka.

“Then I will escape,” she remained defiant. “With my friend.”

“Impossible,” the creature moped. “I have been here for more years than I care to remember.”

“I am a Jedi,” Ahsoka countered. “We don’t give up easily.”

“Jedi? Huh? But so young. Where is your master?” it asked.

“He will come for me,” she said.

“And if he does not?” it said.

“He will,” promised Ahsoka.

“What makes you so sure?” asked the creature as it bit open her restraints. She rubbed her sore wrists.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“The chains? The chains are the easy part. It’s what goes on in here that’s the hard part,” the miserable creature pointed to his head. “Your friend over there can concur. His head is full of clouded darkness.”

Ahsoka ran up to the body of Ares and felt his pulse. It was still there. She felt something wet on his chest and realised that it was blood. She followed the trail and found terrible, clawed gash. She wasn’t a medic, but it looked pretty bad. Ahsoka focused on the Force and breathed. Healing was an ability she wasn’t well practised in, but desperate times called for desperate efforts. A bright blue light shone from the wound and Ares moaned faintly. When it dimmed, Ahsoka inspected it again. It wasn’t a perfect job, but it would have to do for now. Ares remained unconscious, peaceful.

“He’s alive,” she said. “What did the Son do to him?”

“A dark curse. The Son of the Sith meddles with dark plans that he knows too little about,” said the creature.

“Will he wake up?” asked Ahsoka.

“Maybe or maybe not. The fact is you are alone now. If you are to survive, you must forget your friends,” said the miserable creature.

There was an ache in her head. Something was wrong. “I don’t think I can –” but she was cut off by the teeth of the creature sinking into her flesh. “Ow! What have you done?!” The poison seeped into her bloodstream and entered her head as quickly as the words of protest tumbled out.

As she fell to her knees, the creature metamorphosed into his true form. “You are mine now,” said The Son.

[][][]

Ares woke up with a grasp. He knew he had been out too long even without remembering how he had gotten here. “Where am I?” he asked himself. The last thing he remembered was entering the dark meditative void. “Wasn’t I on a ship?” A sudden cold fear entered him as he thought of the possibility that he was left behind on this strange planet.

There was no one around to answer his questions, but The Father might be able to.

When Ares arrived at the monastery, he knew that something was wrong. Ahsoka was in danger and so were Kenobi and Skywalker. They hadn’t left the planet yet. The dark side was very strong. He ran into the courtyard and found Ahsoka sitting, meditating, only she didn’t feel like Ahsoka. She was colder, darker. She was a stranger in a familiar body.

“Ahsoka?” Ares asked, weary. “Ahsoka, is that you? What’s going on?”

“I’m waiting,” she said in a stranger’s voice.

“Waiting? For who?” Ares asked, confused.

“For the One,” she replied. “Be gone, son of the Sith.”

“What?” asked Ares. He did not need to spend much time confused. “Traitor!” Skywalker screamed. Anakin, seeing Ares, took his lightsabre and attacked the boy.

“Skywalker, I was possessed!” Ares shouted back, wielding his father’s blade well, but not well enough against the Jedi prodigy. “The Son possessed me!” Skywalker’s blows were those of a father beating his daughter’s tempter. Ares’ lightsabre was dislodged from his grasp and he fell backwards onto the ground, a prisoner of Skywalker’s blade point.

Their spar was interrupted by the amused laughter of Ahsoka. It was creepy. She didn’t laugh so coldly. “Yes, master. He kidnapped me. He’s guilty. He used me. Use your anger against him, master.” Paradoxically, her words halted Skywalker’s attack and he regarded his student with confusion.

“Snips? You ok?” he asked.

“I will never be okay, you blind fool!” she shrieked. “The Son is right, right about everything. You must join him.” Ares hadn’t noticed before that her eyes were not their normal shade of blue, but bright, viscous yellow. “He only wants what’s best for the universe,” she said, creepily.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” Skywalker asked Ahsoka. “What did you do to her?” he asked Ares. “Ahsoka, what’s wrong with you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Always with the criticism, master. Never really believing in me, trusting me. Well, I don’t need you anymore!”

“Ahsoka? Ahsoka listen to me. He’s done something to you. Snap out of it!” said Skywalker.

“She’s possessed, like I was,” said Ares, standing up and summoning his lightsabre to him. “This isn’t her.”

“Isn’t it?!” she screamed. “I feel more like myself than I ever have! The Son wanted to give you a message, master. He said if you don’t join him, he’ll kill me,” she said with a creepy giggle.

“I won’t let him,” Skywalker promised.

“Then you will be forced to kill me!” Ahsoka yelled and ignited her green blades. She leaped towards her master and collided with him. She duelled proficiently and skilfully, proving to be a match for her teacher. The confused Jedi Knight defended himself, terrified of going on the attack, of making a terrible choice. Ares joined Skywalker’s side and battled her too, her shoto sword angrily blocking his measured blows and strikes. Her goal was to kill her master, but she seemed to have no interest in harming Ares. 

“Ahsoka, get a hold of yourself!” Ares shouted desperately, but the call fell to deaf ears. The dark side was coursing through her veins like hot blood and with the strength of a persistent poison. 

“Any suggestions?!” Skywalker yelled, force pushing his student away.

“We cut her free!” Obi-Wan announced, suddenly entering the fray, holding a strange looking dagger. “With this!”

“What is that?” asked Anakin.

“What do you mean by ‘cutting’ her free?” asked Ares.

“Where did you get that!?” Ahsoka’s demonic voice shrieked. “Give it to me!”

“It can kill the Son. He can’t inhabit anybody anymore if he’s dead,” said Kenobi. As he said this, the monastery’s glasswork was shattered by The Son’s and The Daughter’s bodies. Their Father followed them with a mind to subdue both his children.

“…You mean nothing to me old man! You are weak!” The Son screamed, overpowering the elderly patriarch. The Daughter could do little more than recover her breath and strength, unable to come to her father’s aid. 

“Anakin, now!” Kenobi threw the dagger to Anakin. His timing was poor. Ahsoka had leapt, struck and retrieved the dagger.

A cold laugh echoed around them. “Well done! Everything has transpired exactly as I planned!” The Son applauded his possessed servant.

“You showed them the Altar?” The Father gasped in fear when he seeing the dagger in Ahsoka’s hands.

“I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t know how else to stop him,” said the Daughter.

“Give it to me, child,” The Son commanded Ahsoka.

“Ahsoka, no!” Anakin yelled, seconds before she handed the weapon to The Son. He was drunk on the power of a well-made plan.

“Thank you,” The Son said. “Your usefulness has come to an end.” He reached out and touched Ahsoka’s forehead with two fingers. As if shot, Ahsoka’s knees buckled and she fell to the ground, lifeless. The black veins had pumped their last venom. Hauntingly, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and their whites glared emptily at the world she no longer belonged to. Her lightsabre fell from her grip and rolled away. She was dead.

Ares became a slave to his emotions; rage, pain, sickness, confusion, fury, loathing all turned into a ranging thunderstorm. His blood, brain, and stomach pounded with a shattering terror. Uncontrollable screams emitted until his lungs burned and his legs dragged him to the corpse. He dropped his lightsabre and cradled the corpse. Those lithe limbs fell away with heavy burden and her head rolled away from him. Tears choked the boy. He kept wailing the word “no” over and over again.

“The Jedi have brought me the dagger, and you have brought yourself,” the Son spoke. “Now, Father, you will die!” He lifted the dagger up and swung if down with full force over the old man. The sound of crunched bone and the wet groan of pain was heard. When The Son opened his hate-filled red eyes, he saw his dagger sinking into the flesh of his sister’s spine. She had sacrificed herself. “What?” he stumbled back, grief-stricken, confused and angry. He screamed out his rage and transformed into his bat-like creature, grasped the numb, unfeeling Son of the Sith in its claws and shot up high into the air. Both running far, far away from the things that transpired here.

[][][]

He didn’t know how long he spent on the floor. It didn’t even matter. The girl he loved was dead. He could freely accept that now that all was lost. He loved her and now she was gone, dead, cold, deceased, perished, lifeless… all because he had been weak. He had brought her to The Son and now she was gone.

 _Ahsoka is dead. Ahsoka is dead because of you. Ahsoka was possessed because you were weak. You were weak. Everything you’ve done was pointless. Ahsoka is dead. Ahsoka is dead._ The words just kept running through his mind hours after The Son deposited him onto the cold ground of the Dark Temple. The Son had not even bothered restraining him. Ares’ thoughts shackled him better than any bonds would.

“Son of the Sith, get up. We have work to do,” said the cold, cruel voice.

“Bring back the girl I love first,” replied the broken boy. “I have nothing to live for. I have no family, no home and no love. I’ve lost everything. My dreams and ambitions have left me. Nothing has meaning anymore. Nothing has a point.”

The dark man observed his grieving prisoner with disdain. “Do as I say, son of the Sith. Your friend can return to the land of the living, but only if we work together,” said the Son.

“You’re the one who killed her. You’re a fool if you think I’d join her killer,” Ares resisted.

“You will find that joining the murderers of your loved ones is a natural enough skill to learn,” the Son said.

His wrath was extreme.

[][][]

“Hey, Snips.” Her master’s fatherly and concerned voice was the first thing she knew after coming out of what could only be described as a deep, forgotten nothingness. 

“What happened?” she could only ask. Nothing had made sense when she opened her eyes. 

After they made sure that she was okay, The Father gave them his instructions.

“You must go now. My son needs your ship to leave the planet. You must leave before he can take it,” replied the sad old man.

“We are not leaving without Ares,” stated Ahsoka.

“It is too late, my child,” bemoaned The Father in his grief. “Like my son, your friend is consumed by the dark side. He will inherit the great burden of his ancestors. It is too late. Do not repeat my mistakes.” The Father paused, pained. “You must go now. Always two there are: a master and an apprentice. They need your ship to leave the planet. You must leave before they can take it.”

“What will you do?” asked Anakin.

“I shall mourn all that I have done. And all that is yet to be.”

[][][]

“How’s it looking, Snips?” Anakin asked his pupil and resident mechanic.

“We’ve got two cracked shilo pins, a busted power converter, the engines should be fired twice to dump debris and the backup vents need charging,” she informed both masters.

“Sounds terribly downbeat. Can it be fixed?” asked Kenobi, as he leaned on the ship’s computer and placed Ares’ curved lightsabre on top of it.

“Yes, but with all due respect, I’m not fixing this ship until we have Ares back, masters,” she said, sternly. To prove her point, she took off the mechanic’s goggles and threw them aside. She crossed her arms too.

“Ahso—” Kenobi raised his voice before being interrupted by his former pupil.

“Hey, we’re working on a plan, Snips,” Skywalker reassured her. He picked up the goggles and tossed them back at her. “But once we get him back, we’ll need something to get off this planet. So, get cracking.”

Kenobi led his former padawan outside. “The Father said Ares was to stay here, Anakin.”

“Yeah, well, I’m going back to the monastery,” said Anakin in a tone that suggested he had already made up his mind. “What’s with you? Would you leave me behind if I was in such a situation?”

“Unlike you, Anakin, I am prepared to let my student go if his destiny has come and the fate of the galaxy is at stake!” Obi-Wan said.

“His destiny is not to die on this rock, a slave of the dark side. I won’t allow it,” said Anakin, mounting his speeder.

“It’s not up to you to allow or disallow it. Accept your limits, Anakin,” Obi-Wan snapped, but the Knight ignored him. “Where are you going?” asked Kenobi.

“To see The Father and get some answers,” replied Anakin, simply, before zooming off to the monastery.

[][][]

The Chosen One’s entrance to the Dark Temple was easily felt. The Son had been waiting for this for quite some time.

“Welcome! I believe there has been a misunderstanding. We really don’t have to be enemies,” said The Son.

“Your Father sent me here to look for my friend. Give him back. He made his choice and he is not yours to keep,” said Skywalker, igniting his lightsabre and pointing it at the dark divinity.

The Son cackled and summoned the hilt of the blade to himself; his powers having become so much stronger with the death of The Daughter. “Confident of your powers, aren’t you?” He snapped his fingers and a dark cloud appeared between them. From this black abyss, the body of Ares fell out, groaning in pain. “Think of this as a gift.”

Anakin ran up to the boy. He was alive and semi-conscious, but in much pain. “What have you done to him?” asked Anakin.

“Nothing he won’t recover from,” The Son said and shrugged. “He’s all yours, Chosen One… that is, if you can carry him out of the Dark Temple. But before you begin that journey, I have another gift for you,” said The Son, smiling wickedly.

“I’ve had enough of your trickery!” announced Skywalker.

“Oh, but you’ll like this one. I promise. What if I could show you the future?” Anakin could not accept or deny the gift as the visions filled the Jedi Knight’s head instantly. The shades of a horrible future presented themselves to him. There was so much death, slaughter and suffering in his vision. A faceless Dark Lord laughing manically. An old man being decapitated by red and blue swords. A duel in a fiery hell. All of it was overshadowed by a black skull.

“So many terrible things will happen,” Anakin cried out to The Son.

“Yes, but it doesn’t have to be this way. The choice is yours to make,” said The Son. “Terrible things can be stopped.”

“How?” asked Anakin desperately.

“The future by its nature can be changed. Join me and together we will destroy this Dark Lord you see in your visions. Then we shall end war, corruption and suffering throughout the galaxy!” said The Son.

“Will we bring peace?” asked Anakin.

“Of course,” said The Son, offering the Knight his lightsabre back. When Anakin took the weapon, he belonged to the dark side. The dark spell fell over him like a black visor.

 _A nature that is not his own_ , realised Ares. Anakin was to become a Sith Lord here on Mortis. He and The Son would wreak havoc across the galaxy together, ushering in an era of pain and suffering.

Ignoring the agony, Ares got to his feet.

“Are you going to beg for mercy? Has the pain become too much for you, boy?” The Son asked, amused at the product of his cruelty.

Ares focused on the blade in Skywalker’s hand and stumbled up to The Son with unsure, heavy steps. Grabbing The Son’s shoulders to steady himself, Ares’ mind pushed the blade button down and the fiery blue edge shot out from the hilt and ran them both though. The blue sword gleamed behind Ares’ back. Horrified, Skywalker immediately turned his weapon off, but the damage had been done. Death had arrived.

“You’ll get no such satisfaction from me,” Ares hatefully spat out to The Son with blood mingling in his mouth.

The Son screamed out in wetted wrath. A god who had never felt pain, he stumbled back, aghast at this new sensation, but Ares was well acquainted with it. He fell onto his knees and died on the floor of the Dark Temple, content with the knowledge that he had his vengeance.

“Foolish boy,” said the Son. He could feel the life draining from him, spilling out like wine from a ruptured casket. “The Chosen One has been changed. I am dying,” The Son called out with his last few breaths to his new ally. “I must live on!” He pointed at the corpse of the boy with a clawing, grabbing motion and Skywalker understood.

Skywalker took his position. “Let The Son’s last act be to breathe new life into the Son of the Sith.”

[][][]

Red eyes fluttered open with difficulty. Death had been an iron-cladded cold, dark place with no exit. As soon as the thread of life presented itself, the boy had grabbed it with tight force.

“Can you hear me?” Anakin asked, impatient for his master to return back to the land of the living. “Guide me! What must I do to stop the future!”

The boy got up to his feet, stretching out in his new body. His bones cracked and new blood flowed through his veins. “Where’s my lightsabre?” His voice and eyes belonged to the Son.

“At the ship,” said Skywalker.

“We need to get off this planet, my friend,” said the boy.

“The ship is damaged, but repairable,” said Skywalker.

“You must end your old master if you want to achieve your destiny. We have both seen the future. It is the Jedi that will cause the suffering that you dreamed of. They must die,” said the boy.

“It will be done,” said Anakin.

“It will be done soon. I can sense my Father and your master approaching,” said the boy. Kenobi and The Father were advanced side by side.

“Anakin! Ares? Are you alright?” Kenobi cried out.

Anakin snarled like a vicious, impatient animal. “There has been a change of plans!” He took out his lightsabre and attacked his master, who immediately began deflecting the onslaught of attacks.

“What have you done to him?” The Father’s voiced boomed out to the boy as the two Jedi duelled.

“Done? I have fulfilled a destiny,” replied the boy.

“Before its time?” asked The Father. “The future is not set in stone. Destiny can change.” The old man approached the young boy. “I must stop you.”

“No. The young must overtake the old. The student must kill the master. The future may be uncertain, but every son must overtake his father,” said the boy.

“So, do it, boy. End it now,” said The Father, outstretching his arms as if for an embrace.

The boy lifted his hands with red lightning zapping between his fingers, but the metal hand caught the voltage and malfunctioned. It burned the flesh touching the metal and the boy yelped out in pain. It stung and he could smell the scorched skin. Aside from the physical pain, a conflict brewed inside his head. “What trick is this?!”

“It was foolish of you to think you could escape your fate with this stunt. It is whilst you’re here on Mortis, in your own home where your power is strongest, that you might control the boy. But as soon as he returns to his own home, you will lose your power over him. It was suicide for you to do this. You have cursed yourself.”

The metal hand was ripped off his skin and The Son’s regained his control. The ferocious red eyes scowled at The Father with hatred and then glanced at the Chosen One, who was losing his duel against his former master. The boy leaped on Anakin’s speeder and took off.

The Father watched his son leave with regret. He began working on wiping the Chosen One’s memory of the darkness. The balance had to be restored.

[][][]

The ship seemed to be deserted. Ares landed on the entrance and came in cautiously. He found the curved lightsabre hilt lying on the pilot’s control panel and force summoned it quickly just as something dropped from the ceiling slashing a green lightsabre at him. As the red and green sabres hissed together, thus illuminating the faces of the two warriors, the red eyes of the boy widened in shock. He saw a face he didn’t think he’d see again.

“A… Ahsoka?” a quiet, distant voice gasped. “You lied to me!” he screamed.

“Son of the Sith, I know you’re in there. Fight him. Fight the darkness,” she said, her voice soothing and patient. Her natural blue eyes were now bright green. She was The Daughter. “Fight my brother’s venom.”

“No, sister! You will not turn him! I have him!” The Son’s voice yelled back and slammed the blade at her. “I killed you once and I’ll do it again! Your death is a sacrifice I am willing to make!” The Son’s voice screamed, his strikes were violent and barely uncontrollable.

“Wait, stop!” Ahsoka’s voice shouted out and her eyes returned to their original oceanic blue. “Ares, it’s me, Ahsoka. It’s okay.” She pushed the boy off and turned her lightsabre off. She dropped her weapon to the floor. “Ares, I know you mourned me when I died. I do not believe you would hurt me now. Fight it, Ares. Fight the darkness.” She closed her eyes as if she was going to trust fall. She half expected to feel a lightsabre’s burn, but it never came. When she opened her eyes, she saw a brown-eyed boy drop his blade.

“Ahsoka… you’re alive,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. There were tears in his eyes. He seemed frozen in his boots.

She did the work for him and rushed to embrace him. “You’re back. Thank the Force you’re back,” she said. Her hand touched his platinum hair and she breathed him in. She had never been so happy to see him. “You’re ok. You’re home.”

She felt his shaking hands enclose around her frame and pull her closer, a reassurance that she was really there. His grip was deathly, but she didn’t mind. She was just happy that he was back.

[][][]

“Run it again!” Ahsoka shouted into the cockpit, patting the engine of the ship with affection. The ship fired up with ease.

Ares pressed the necessary buttons again with his one good hand. “Luckily for us, Skywalker is a master of crash-landing,” said Ares, turning the ship back off to conserve power.

“No, lucky for us, I’m an excellent mechanic!” replied Ahsoka.

When The Father, Kenobi and the newly restored Skywalker managed to return to the shuttle, they found two teenagers running checks of a fully repaired ship, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“Um? Hi?” Skywalker asked, seeing the confusing sight.

“Master!” Ahsoka ran up to the Jedi. Ares hobbled out behind Ahsoka, keeping his gaze at the ground. His guilt was emanating from him the longer he was in the Jedi’s presence. He distracted himself by inspecting the burn on the stump of his hand. “Are you alright, master?” asked Ahsoka.

“I’m good,” replied Skywalker, glaring at the boy. “Are you good, Snips?”

“I am,” she said, sensing the collective gaze. “He’s not possessed anymore.”

“How did this happen?” asked Kenobi, his face stern and sceptical.

“Ahsoka brought me back… somehow,” said Ares, quietly.

“Walk with me, Son of the Sith,” said the Father and beckoned Ares aside to a small meadow not far away. They were not too far away from the Jedi.

Once they were some distance away, the Father spoke up. “You died here on Mortis, like your friend. You have my son’s life-force. You may find, once you leave, that your connection to the dark side is unusually strong. You will leave this world very much altered,” said The Father.

“What do you mean I have the Son’s life-force?! What if he tries to possess me again?” said Ares. He had that helpless look on his face of someone who was very, very lost. 

“Do not be alarmed. My son had not considered that when you give your life to someone, it is no longer yours to use. Stay true to your nature and my son’s whisperings will not impede your destiny,” said The Father. “Just as with good and bad influences, my son will have no power over you unless you allow it.”

“What do you mean ‘stay true to your nature’?” asked Ares.

“I’m afraid that is something you will have to learn by yourself,” said the Father simply. “There is a deep, ancient power residing in you and your friend now. Darkness and light for you both, respectively. There is a delicate balance that you must find in yourself. A master and an apprentice. Strength and temptation. Ares of Serenno and Darth Filius.”

[][][]

“General Skywalker, come in!”

The four crew members of the shuttle woke up from a very long dream. They blinked at their surroundings.

“We read you, Rex,” said Skywalker, groggily. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes, sir, standing by. We were worried. You were off the scopes there for a moment,” said Rex.

“A moment? We’ve been gone for more than a moment, Rex,” said Anakin.

“Sir, I don’t understand. You’ll need to explain,” said Rex.

The four of them shared a look between themselves. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. We’re coming in now,” said Anakin.

[][][]

“Troubling, is this development, Obi-Wan,” said Yoda. He, Windu and Obi-Wan were in the Council Chamber late in the evening discussing the events that transpired on Mortis.

“I don’t trust him,” said Windu. “He and Skywalker are too close to the dark side. I fear one will lead the other there.”

“With all due respect, Master Windu, is Anakin not the Chosen One?” asked Kenobi. “Is he not destined to bring balance to The Force?”

“So, the prophecy says,” said Windu, begrudgingly. “And Sidious is still out there... somewhere.”

“Everywhere these days, the dark side is, my friends. Whilst in the presence of the light, he will not turn. Brought him back, his attachment to Padawan Tano did,” said Yoda.

“Master Yoda are you suggesting… what are you suggesting?” asked Windu.

“In war, difficult compromises made must be. Know the rules, Padawan Tano does. To our Order, strong and loyal, she is. Remain true, she will. A small price, turning a blind eye to a boy’s attachment would be. Afford his treachery and the darkness, we cannot.”

“So, do nothing,” said Windu. “Is that your wisdom, master?”

“Meditate upon this, I will,” said Yoda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Leave a REVIEW… please.
> 
> ANNOUNCEMENT: I would like to say that this is the midpoint of the story! To celebrate, would anyone like to draw me some fanart? Would be pretty boss.


	11. War Gods

#  **Chapter 11 – War Gods**

Kenobi entered the Jedi Temple workstation. “How are those droids looking?” he asked.

When Ares had joined the Republic, one of the pieces of intelligence he had brought with him was his knowledge of the programming codes of the Separatist droids. It had been gratefully accepted by generals of the Republic but had been practically useless on the battlefield. Afterall, it was easier and cheaper to shoot a droid rather than reprogram it. So, it became a pretty piece of archive data in the Library. Until today. Today, Ares was hunched over a desk, fiddling with the head of a B1-unit pilot battle droid that had been stolen from a battlefield recently. He had been tasked with reprogramming the droids for the next mission to the Citadel. 

“Almost done, general,” said Ares. His fingers were fixing the last bolts. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you on this one?”

Both Ares and Ahsoka had been given express orders to sit this mission out. The Citadel was not where they were needed. It had been judged too dangerous for them by Skywalker and Kenobi. Obviously, both teenagers were appalled; Ahsoka because she lived for dangerous missions and Ares because he died a little bit with every moment he was forced to spend on Coruscant away from the battlefield.

“I’m sure. You need some rest,” said Obi-Wan. “Whatever had happened on Mortis… you need your rest from it.”

“I’ve slept,” defended Ares. Thinking about being the embodiment of darkness itself would be troubling for everyone, except Ares, who prided himself on ignoring unsavoury truths. _It was just a dream,_ he told himself, ignoring the physical scars on his body. _Those were from a battlefield,_ he reasoned when he saw them in the mirror.

“It’s not about sleep. It’s about resting,” said Kenobi. “I mean it, Ares, I’m giving you a military order to rest.”

The captain rolled his eyes. “I rest better on any surface that isn’t Coruscant,” said Ares, “Ideally a battlefield. Why can’t you send me to a battlefield? We have a dozen active battlefronts. I’ll come back as good as new.” Kenobi rolled his eyes but didn’t amend his order.

As Ares fixed the last piece on the droid, it shot up, alert and saluted. “Roger, roger, sir. What are your orders?” said the battledroid.

“Oh, boy. I’ve missed having one of these. Too bad I don’t’ get the chance to boss them around anymore,” said Ares, rubbing his hands with excitement. “Unit B1-404 your commanding officer is this droid, R2-D2,” said Ares, pointing to the little blue astromech that had been aiding him in the reprogramming. CL-Y had been in the corner the whole time, jealously pouting and scowling in her binary dialogue.

“Roger, roger, sir,” said the droid.

“R2, you have the central control chip. They’re all yours now,” said Ares, wiping the soot and grease from the metal body with a rag. The blue astromech whirred with agreement.

“This is work for a mechanic. Surely your father had people for this sort of labour. Why would you even know about how to program a droid?” asked Kenobi, observing the craftsmanship.

“He did, you’re right, but my brother-in-law designed the programming for the independent thinking units. When you’re left babysitting your child-bride and her brother, you need to keep them occupied. So, he would give us these long pieces of coding and told us to find all the mistakes. There is no greater feeling than gloating to your siblings that you are the more intelligent being… especially in my family,” said Ares. He missed Wodin. He missed a lot of people.

“Sounds like a remarkable man,” said Kenobi, softly.

Ares became aware that he had overshared. “Alright, general. These droids are all yours – as loyal to the Republic as R2 is.”

[][][]

Whilst Ares had been overseeing the carbon-freezing of the squad journeying to The Citadel, Ahsoka had been sneaking around. He had been avoiding her since they arrived back from their adventures on Mortis. Had he been a normal person Ares would be worried about how much blood money he owed The Son, but instead he spent his days paranoid about his newfound feelings for the commander of the 501st.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, appearing behind him, making him jump.

“Holy kriff! Don’t do that!” He yelped. She smirked at his fright. “I’m overseeing that they’re alive after the freezer. What are you doing?”

She shrugged before speaking, which perhaps gave her lie away. “Getting carbon-frozen. I have orders from Master Plo… super last minute. I have to go.” Her innocent act was easy to see through.

“You are a terrible liar,” he said, crossing his arms.

“I’m not lying!” she insisted, deepening the extent of her crime.

“Alright then, you’ll have no problem if I double check your last-minute orders with General Koon,” he said, smirking, about to press the commlink on his wrist. He was enjoying having this power over her, or the illusion of power anyway; it was reprieve from her haunting his imaginations. She had been a favourite distraction from the nightmares.

“Wait!” She grabbed his prosthetic wrist. “Don’t check.”

“Disobeying orders again, commander?” he said, smirking. “Why do you want to go so badly? You died… literally a few days ago. Can’t you just take a break?” Ares understood Obi-Wan’s caution. Skywalker’s too.

“Oh, you and Skyguy are just the pair. I’m fine! Honestly!” she scowled, frustrated with the fear that she found in both men about her well-being. “Hey,” she put her hand on his shoulder. Her mere touch sent sparks in his belly. “I take care of myself… the warden of the Citadel is no Lord of Darkness. Now please, just let me go. Can you do this one favour for me, please?”

When she looked at him like she was doing now, it was hard for him to deny her anything. “I don’t like this. It’s dangerous and stupid,” he said.

There was sympathy in her eyes. She must have known that he… cared for her greatly. To his internal delight, she didn’t seem reviled by his unease at her endangerment. “So come with me,” she suggested. “Ease your conscience.”

“I can’t. It’s easy for you to do as Skywalker does, but I don’t get just such luxuries. If I disobey orders and something goes wrong, questions start arising about my loyalty. A case gets built up about me being a traitor and a spy,” said Ares with a sigh. He knew there was no stopping her. She was stubborn to the bone. “… So, you say General Koon gave you orders?” He said loudly. “Be on your way, commander.”

“Thank you! I owe you one,” she said, quickly giving him a friendly pat before running off and freezing herself in carbonite. He personally checked that she had survived the carbon freezing. For just one moment, in that insentient hangar, he reached out his flesh hand and touched her stone fingers, feeling their cold smoothness and their unattainable heat.

He didn’t like watching her walk away. He didn’t like that she eagerly went on risky missions, throwing herself into violent danger. He especially didn’t like that he couldn’t always go with her.

 _That’s what you get for falling for a Jedi, idiot_ , he told himself.

[][][]

Ahsoka’s disappearance during the Second Battle of Felucia had alarmed her master and her battalion. But perhaps most of all, it terrified the captain of the 212th. When the news reached him, it had been already too late. He and Kenobi had been besieging the capital of that strange world, whilst Skywalker and Plo Koon were ambushing the droid holdouts. Ares had spent hours searching for her through the Force, optimistically. He would have felt her dying. He had had that experience before, even if he had missed sensing her resurrection.

When the Wookies brought her back to Coruscant, her relieved master showed his fatherly fears and concerns, not bothering to disguise his attachment to his padawan. Whilst she was assuring her master that what happened hadn’t been his fault, the sudden embrace of two muscular arms lifted her off her feet, knocking the air out of her lungs. She

“Ares… do you mind?” she politely asked, finding herself to not mind his embrace. She was aware of how filthy and grimy she was from the jungle, but when she turned to face her friend, he wasn’t much cleaner with Felucian foliage clinging to his robes. She was sorry when his arms were gone. Their warmth and smell were especially welcome after the fortnight she had spent in that horrible slaughterhouse. 

“I’m just… h-happy you are home,” he said, stumbling over his words and avoiding eye-contact. She noticed the blush in his cheeks and the joy in his eyes. Ahsoka was glad to see that. Unexpectedly, she realised that not seeing the joy in his eyes was one of the comforts of home that she had missed when she was out there, alone.

[][][]

It was a few days later that they heard a call for help from the planet of Mon Cala. General Skywalker and Senator Amidala reported that the civil war between the fishes was dire. The Separatist presence was troublesome and General Windu promised them clone reinforcements in the form of Fisto, Ahsoka and a restless captain who had annoyed his superiors into allowing him to leave Coruscant.

“Tell me again how you landed this mission?” Ahsoka asked, smirking. They were on their way to the barracks to get suited up for the water-world.

“I told them ‘I don’t know what Kenobi is doing, but whatever it is, it is spending too much time on this godforsaken planet. Please let me leave.’ And then I waved a lightsabre around to prove a point… and the Council were all in awe at my powers of persuasion,” said Ares, gesticulating dramatically.

“By ‘awe at your powers of persuasion’, you mean you drove them to such exhaustion that the galaxy’s most serene and well-trained masters ran out of patience with you,” said Ahsoka.

“Rude… but more or less accurate,” he said, laughing.

Ahsoka, the little slender girl that she was, was fitted with a custom-made suit and mask to accommodate her lekku and montrals. Ares, who was only a few inches short of an adult clone’s height, was given the SCUBA clone equipment. White armour with six propulsion jets, breathing tubes to carry oxygen and white boots with fins all went onto the young man’s body. As strange as it was to wear clone armour that was made in one size for identical clone units, Ares felt comfortable.

When he emerged from the changing room with his helmet under his arm, Ahsoka was already waiting for him outside. He averted his eyes from the tightness of her swimsuit, aware about the tightness of his own. She snickered at him. “Well… don’t you look like a Separatist patriot,” she said, gesturing to his clone armour.

“I would pay any amount of credits right now to send this image to my father and sister,” he said. Wearing flippers required the wearer to walk backwards when on land, which was uncomfortable for the wearer, but funny for any observer. “Is this how the whole battalion moves when out of the water? How the hell do you march in these?” asked Ares as he walked. Ahsoka chuckled. “Where’s the paint?”

“Is the armour too… _shiny_ for you, captain?” she mocked him.

“Hey, you, stay off the puns,” he said. He took a seat beside her and force summoned the paint palette from the barracks cupboard. “What should it be?” he asked.

Traditionally, the paint was for clones who had distinguished themselves on the battlefield and needed to be differentiated amongst their identical brothers. The pattern they chose often reflected what they went through in the war. As a captain and recognised war hero, Ares had earned his stripes and colours, but no particular accomplishment seemed fitting. Ahsoka had voiced that it was stupid.

“You’re going to be distinguishable enough with a flaming red sword and it’s not like you’re going to keep the armour,” she said, but Ares had shushed her in a childish manner and persisted with his idea.

“If I get armour, I’m making it look cool,” he said and looked down at the helmet in his hands.

“Well, don’t overthink it, but I warn you if you don’t use the 212th yellow, Cody will court martial you and I won’t blame him,” said Ahsoka.

Ares shrugged. “Well, if the commander commands it,” he said and opened the yellow jar. He then pointed it to Ahsoka. “Help me.”

She rolled her eyes. “It seems like I have to because you’re already doing it wrong.” She force summoned a pair of plastic gloves. “This stuff is permanent. You need gloves.” She snapped one on and dipped a finger in. She made the first mark on his right shoulder pad: the noble stripe of a captain.

“Where would I be without you?” he said, chuckling, following her trail of thought and marking his left shoulder pads with the same symbol. 

“Probably fighting droids with yellow hands,” replied Ahsoka.

“Aha! I’d catch them yellow-handed!” He was much more excited about his pun than she was.

“Yeah, you don’t deserve puns either,” she said, focusing on his armour, secretly enjoying the pastime of touching him.

Even through the plate and armour, her touch made him giddy. He was overcome with the urge for intimacy. He wanted to touch her and kiss her so, so badly. He wanted to stare into her beautiful, blue eyes. Ares stopped the trail of thought before he would forget his self-control and give into that forbidden temptation.

With the shoulder pads, gauntlets, cuisse, and greave marked in yellow, Ares snapped his glove off and threw it in the trash. He then put his helmet on. “Final mark on this masterpiece is yours, commander,” he said, his voice becoming hollower from inside the helmet.

“You are so full of yourself,” she said, but didn’t protest. “What will it be?”

“Make it whatever you want. The cooler the better.” She drew a symbol on his helmet from the Shilian dialect. He watched her white-brows clench in focus and a genuine smile spread across her face through the visor. “What did you do?” he asked when she finished.

“It means ‘arrogant jackass inside, ladies keep a distance,” she said. In truth, it was a Shilian shaman symbol for protection and honour, but he didn’t need to know that.

He smirked. “Territorial, aren’t you, commander?” he remarked, which made her blue stripes take on a deep blue shade.

“No—That’s not—” she tried to recover, but knew it was a worthless effort.

“No, no. That’s good. I’m not really into fish… no matter how many there are in the sea,” he replied. Ahsoka groaned loudly and hit him with her elbow on his, now dry, shoulder. He took off the helmet and observed her paintjob. “I like it.”

Their commlinks buzzed and the ship’s Admiral’s voice spoke through it. “We are beginning our landing on the planet. All units report to their transport vehicles.”

“As soon as we can figure out this duckwalk, it would be a pleasure,” said Ares to Ahsoka, both beginning the awkward, backwards march to the gunships.

[][][]

The echo of angry stomping boots was heard by many battledroids down the corridor. When a frustrated count emerged from the hallway, followed by his furious daughter, the droids pointedly began to mind their own business.

“Why are you giving me this mission? I know next to nothing about aquatic warfare or about anything that is going on down there!” she barked at her father. “I’m completely ill-equipped for this, father! I don’t do well on battlefields that I am unprepared for!”

Dooku turned on her with such a menacing look on his face that Pallas immediately shut up. “One would think that the promotion to youngest general in the Clone Wars would create a little gratitude. And yet I see and hear none of it,” said Dooku. “All I see is a spoilt, ungrateful child.”

Her rebuke died on her lips and she looked at her father’s boots. Under her father’s glare, she felt smaller than a private meeting his sergeant for the first time. “I am grateful,” she whispered. “Everything I am, I owe to you, father,” she said her lies, closing herself tighter inside Wodin’s long-coat.

“Good. Now, on the aquatic warfare, I’m sure you’re a fast learner.” The count pressed the buttons to contact his ambassador, Riff Tamson, and the Quarren representative, Nosso Ri.

“Greetings, Count Dooku,” the squid bowed before the proud nobleman.

“Greetings, gentlemen,” said Dooku. “Allow me to introduce you to General Pallas. She is one of the finest commanders in the Separatist army and will aid you in winning Mon Cala.” The father’s arm touched her shoulder and she slipped into her natural, shrunken place by his side. “I’ll leave the military strategies in your hands.” Then he left.

“What’s the situation on Mon Cala?” asked Pallas, mentally forcing herself to cool her frustrations with her father. Tactics, probabilities and numbers would take her mind off the count. 

The Separatist ambassador grew angry at the sight of her. “I will not be commanded by a fingerling!” he roared at the holotransmitter, hoping that his fury could be heard by the Count, but the nobleman was already out of the room.

The ambassador’s defiance and disrespect brought a smile to her lips. _This is where the fun begins,_ she thought and mentally cracked her knuckles.

Pallas crossed her arms, cleared her throat, and her face took on a look of menace and harshness. “Ambassador, if you are calling out for my father, you are wasting your breath. He’s left you to me. If you think he particularly cares about your puny ambitions for your planet, then you’re a fool. When you rule a thousand systems, one mighty shark becomes a fish-egg.”

“Dooku needs us to join the Alliance!” the squid representative feebly defended them but reared back in fear when the girl gave him a withering glare that rivalled the Count’s.

“You are already in the alliance, representative, and you’re a fool to think there’s a way out for you now. The Republic will execute you for a traitor if you go back. You and your people belong to us now, Nosso Ri,” said Pallas, her voice inheriting a regal drawl. “Fortunately for Mon Cala, they have me as their commander-in-chief and a Separatist victory here means something more profitable for me than it does for my father. So, if there is any desire in you to receive sufficient Separatist support in this civil war you’ve stirred up, you will step aside for this ‘fingerling’ and listen to what she tells you.”

Her final words hit the two fishes like a rock against their gills and they said no more words of opposition.

The shark swam up to the holotransmitter with a bowed head and a new sense of humility. Sharks valued strength and brutality and this ‘fingerling’ certainly had it. “Commander, we are honoured and delighted to have your assistance in our crusade.”

“Let’s get started then.”

[][][]

“Blue leader standing by,” said Ahsoka.

“Red leader standing by,” said Commander Monnk.

“Yellow leader standing by,” said Ares.

“All squadrons are in position, general Fisto. You may deploy when ready,” announced Rex. He was on the Republic cruiser. Ares’ astromech stood beside him.

“Commencing deployment!” Fisto commanded.

Once he was in the water, Ares latched onto an OMS Devilfish and spearheaded his company’s attack. The capital was already being besieged by aquadroids and Quarren squids. The Mon Cala royal army was holding its defences, but they were severely outnumbered.

When the Republic reinforcements arrived, they immediately pushed the enemy lines back, an easy accomplishment with the Devilfish pods. Ares and his troops whizzed past the enemy, blasting fire and torpedoes at the enemy. It was an odd sensation for someone used to the elegance and precision of a lightsabre, but not one that had to be felt for long because their ranks were infiltrated by the sudden strikes of a ferocious Karkadon. Ares recognised it to be the Separatist ambassador, Tamson. His teeth ripped through the armour of the men by Ares’ side and inhaled their blood like fresh air.

The captain propelled his Devilfish to crash into a group of aquadroids ahead of him and took his lightsabre in hand. He swam to face the shark, force lifting a trooper about to be ripped apart by razor teeth, and swung his blade at it, but due to lack of enough proximity and the alertness of the shark, Ares only accomplished severing a fin. Tamson howled in pain in the water and then charged at him in blind rage with such terrifying speed and violence that Ares was forced to dodge out of the way. He had underestimated the subtleties of an underwater battle.

The charge had sent the shark to the other side of the battle zone and it sailed off leaving a trail of gushing blood in its wake. It hadn’t been an attack, but an aggressive retreat, cutting its way back to safety.

All of the Separatist forces were retreating. The first round was the Republic’s victory.

Ares swam back to command, where Skywalker and Fisto were observing the droids’ retreat. Ahsoka, Prince Lee Char, the two Senators and whatever remained of Mon Cala’s military leadership had regrouped there as well.

“That was too easy,” Ares said to the two generals.

“Indeed,” said Fisto, adjusting his binoculars. “They’re returning to their ships. It looks like we’ve won this round.”

It was not too long after those words were uttered that the Separatists showed their new toys and the Republic’s preliminary victory began to taste hollow. Massive, hulking monsters with gargantuan tentacles that crackled with electricity, trapping any clumsy wanderers. They were slow, but they were massive and impervious to the Republic’s weapons.

Republic retreat was swift.

[][][]

“The hydroid-medusas have broken their lines and we have taken a large number of the enemy forces captive,” reported the shark.

“Execute the soldiers. Send the native Mon Calamari into labour camps at once,” said Pallas. “Where is the Prince?”

“The Prince has evaded capture. He is hiding with the rest of his forces, but we will soon have him,” said Tamson.

“Our position is advantageous. Our numbers exceed theirs. However, see to it that he does not become a symbol or a martyr for his people. War is difficult enough without martyrs. If you capture him, do not make his execution public or violent. Crowds go wild for that sort of thing,” said Pallas, keeping her eyes on the holomap of the capital’s defences. “Can your hydroid-medusas not breach the caves and flush out the remainder of the enemy forces? Forgive me if I’m unfamiliar with the capabilities of these machines or the geography of your waters.”

“They are too small and tight for the hydroid-medusas, general,” replied Tamson.

“Hm… Tell me, Nosso Ri, what were your soldiers doing during the second assault?” asked Pallas.

The squid was about to reply, but the shark interrupted. “His soldiers arrived too late to the battle. He claimed that we didn’t need his help!”

“We… brought up the rear!” the squid defended himself. Pallas observed him with an unnerving stare.

“Now, now, representative. We must all do our part in this war. Your freedom from Republic oppression cannot simply be bought by others. Your troops are fresh, and you know these caves as good as the Mon Calamari. You will take your forces and find these survivors. Shoot the clones and the Jedi on the spot. The Mon Calamari too if they can’t be suppressed.”

“What about the prisoners, commander?” asked Nosso Ri.

“Send them all to the labour camps,” replied Pallas, her tone devoid of emotion or doubt about the brutality she was ordering.

“But the women… and the children?” exclaimed the squid, aghast at the horror.

“Are to be sent as well!” demanded the general. “This is war! There is no place in the army for extra mouths.” Thus, ending that discussion. “See to it that the remains of the Republic forces are rooted out but keep the droids in reserve. I’ve also got a hold of some reinforcements for you. Do not reveal your numbers until the Republic makes its next move. See to it that my orders are executed, Nosso Ri.” The squid swam off to rally his troops and perform the young woman’s orders. When they were alone, Pallas spoke to Tamson. “My father has briefed me about your ambitions for Mon Cala, ambassador. Your services to the Alliance will be repaid. Whatever his outcome, when Nosso Ri comes back from the caves, his numbers will be depleted, and he would have drifted further away from rekindling an alliance with the Mon Calamari.”

“You think he will betray us?” asked Tamson.

“You are an occupational force inhabiting his beloved home and his enemy is the son of his close friend. If I know anything about power, once he feels his sense of control slipping from him, he will scramble to reinstate himself. Be careful, ambassador. I don’t like mistakes.”

“Will you not be joining us on Mon Cala, general?” Tamson said to the hologram.

“Unfortunately, I am easily sea-sick and would be no use to anyone but the enemy when I’m in the water,” replied Pallas.

[][][]

The transmission with Coruscant was cut off.

“Are the reinforcements coming?” asked the Prince.

“I don’t know,” replied Fisto. “But they know our situation. They must know to send help.”

“Yeah, but it may take them a while to get here,” said Anakin.

“Equipping clones for underwater warfare and the travel time to get here will take a few rotations at best,” added Ares.

“We’re gonna have to get ourselves to the surface and get off this rock,” decided Anakin.

“I will not leave my people to die,” said the Prince, proudly.

The patience was running out of Anakin’s eyes. “With all due respect, Your Highness, if we stay, we all die. We must reach the surface and see if our ship is still there.”

“We’ll be lucky if the ship isn’t already destroyed or if they’ve rigged it to explode when we’re all on board, general. It’s dangerous. The Separatists have control of the seas and maybe even the sky. Where would we even go?” said Ares, reasonably.

“We won’t know until we try,” replied Skywalker. “And we have no better alternatives.”

“The prince will decide our course of action,” said Captain Ackbar.

The unsure prince paused for a moment. “I think it is best for us to try and escape using your ship.”

Just then, two Mon Calamari guards came swimming up to them with a new report. “The Quarren are hunting us in the caves. They’re rounding up what’s left of our forces. They’re coming.”

“Then we must leave now!” said Anakin, leading them all out of their hideout.

[][][]

“I’ll create a diversion so you can get past those patrols,” said Kit Fisto.

“Alright, try to get a minisub or two. It’ll help us speed to the surface,” said Anakin. The Nautolan smiled and swam off. Within seconds, a minisub came drifting down. “Ahsoka, you are first. Take the Prince and Senator Tills.”

“Got it,” agreed Ahsoka, taking the steering handles of the sub and taking the two figureheads up to the surface.

Another sub came sailing down and Skywalker reached out for it. “Ares, your turn. Take Padme and Captain Ackbar.” Ares didn’t argue, grabbed the steering handles and, once the captain and senator were holding onto it, pushed off with his boot-fins. Skywalker followed them with the remainder of the forces.

“There’s the ship,” Ares said to his two passengers, but just as the words left his mouth a searing explosion detonated the ship. Debris plunged into the sea like a school of breaching whales. “… drat. I jinxed it,” said Ares. Ahsoka’s minisub and her passengers came down to their level to dodge the debris. Quarren soldiers descended upon them with their red blasters firing.

“Grab onto the debris! Let it carry you to the bottom!” Skywalker shouted from somewhere behind them.

Ares made sure that the senator and captain were off the sub, Ares punched the accelerator and aimed it to crash into the group of enemy soldiers. Then, he grabbed hold of a piece of drowning debris and followed the others to the bottom of the ocean.

“We need to split up and hide the prince’s whereabouts!” Captain Ackbar said.

“I’m not sure that’s the best strategy,” said Anakin.

“I’m sure! Captain Ackbar’s words are my own,” said the Prince. “It will give us the best chances of surviving if we split up.”

“As you wish,” conceded the Jedi Knight. “Ahsoka, you, Ares, and the clones take the Prince and hide him.”

“Strategically, wouldn’t it be wiser to split up equally?” Ares disagreed with his general.

Anakin glared at him. “Your mission is to stay safe and out of sight of the Separatists. If they take me or Kit, we’ll be valuable prisoners of war. If they take you, Count Dooku will have you killed on the spot.”

“…Fine,” said Ares. He hadn’t thought of that.

“Kit and I will take the senators and captain Ackbar. Lay low. Keep him safe. Our only hope is that Master Yoda can send help in time,” said Anakin as he broke away from the debris with Fisto and the senators.

“No, Prince Lee Char is our only hope,” said captain Ackbar pointedly.

The party was now Ares, Ahsoka, Prince Lee Char, Commander Monnk and a few clones. _So much for the Grand Army of the Republic_ , thought Ares. They took their refuge in a cave that had a good vantage point and cover. The clones posted a lookout. The young Prince broke down into despair.

“We have no army and we don’t know if reinforcements are coming. What are our options?” he asked his Republic bodyguards.

“We sit tight,” replied Ahsoka.

“Patience, Your Highness,” agreed Ares. “Our path will become clear soon enough.”

Monnk swam up to them. “Sirs, you’d better come see this.” They all peeped out of the weeds that gave them cover and the sight made their hearts sink into their stomachs. Thousands of Mon Calamari prisoners were being transported across the ocean level. They hovered in the water like lifeless carcasses. None was more impacted that the despairing Prince.

“I can’t believe Nosso Ri and the Quarren agreed to this,” remonstrated the Prince.

“Count Dooku rules here for now, not the Quarren,” said Ahsoka.

“No… I sense my sister’s hand in this. Creating despair seems more up her alley than Dooku’s,” said Ares. “By hurting them, they seek to hurt you, prince. Keep that in mind when you see gruesome sights like these.”

[][][]

“It is my intention to make sure that the Prince is killed for certain,” said Tamson.

“… it might have been wiser to wait for them to get onboard the ship before blowing it up, Tamson,” said Pallas, just before the hologram began to fade. “Tamson… you’re breaking up- what is happening?” Then the transmission failed, and she was unable to reinstall it. “What’s wrong with the transmission?” she asked her droids.

The pilot droids on the spaceship’s bridge tried to re-establish the connection. “Um, the connection has been broken at the source… we cannot contact them again, general,” said the pilot.

Pallas considered what this could possibly mean. “Move the fleet to Mon Cala!”

“But, general… Count Dooku gave us direct orders to remain at our current position,” countered the pilot droid.

“And I’m giving you a direct order to move it to Mon Cala and blockade the planet!!” she roared at the droid, losing her patience.

“Roger, roger!” replied the droid, punching in the co-ordinates and sending them to hyperspace.

Within minutes of their arrival to Mon Cala, her father stormed onto the bridge of the ship, demanding an explanation. “What is the meaning of this?” the count roared.

“I’m taking initiative, father,” she replied from the first-in-command’s wide seat. “Don’t worry. I’ll put the fleet back where it belongs when I’m done.”

“My personal fleet? Without my permission?” demanded Count Dooku. 

“Those fishes are going to screw this up without me,” she replied. “The Republic has disabled their transmissions. They must be expecting reinforcements. You do still want Mon Cala, don’t you?”

The brown eyes of the count glared at her. “I want the fleet back as soon as possible.”

[][][]

“People of Mon Cala, all people of Mon Cala who would not be slaves! Have hope! You will not be prisoners much longer!” The prince’s sudden shout drew the attention of Ares and Ahsoka who had lost track of him in favour of planning out their next move.

“I hate babysitting,” Ares muttered, as they swam to him. She didn’t reply, but he sensed her reluctant agreement.

“Ok, I think the show is over. The guards will be coming. We have to go,” said Ahsoka and true to her word, several guards of the escort broke off and started blasting at them. Ares and Ahsoka swam forward with their lightsabres to protect the prince and begin deflecting the blaster fire, their hideout now compromised.

Suddenly, as if a thunderstorm had hit the turbulent seas, more debris started falling. They were massive and belonged to a full cruiser. Ares and Ahsoka both knew what that meant. Any reinforcements that had been sent by the Republic were unable to break through a Separatist blockade.

“I don’t like the look of this,” said Ahsoka, as she deflected a blaster shot, hitting a droid with a headshot. The massive debris rained around them, crashing into buildings and watery landscape.

“Those are the remains of our reinforcements, aren’t they?” said Ares, disheartened. One brave aquadroid swam at him. Ares’ rhetorical question was answered by the launch of energy balls that latched onto the aquadroid’s torso, electrocuting him. A group of Gungans appeared dropping out of a few gunships that must have evacuated survivors from the destroyed Republic cruiser. 

“Gungans…” Ahsoka stated the obvious as their group watched the warriors swim at their enemies.

“… It’s smaller than I thought the Gungan Army would be,” said Ares.

“Well… we can see what happened to the rest of them,” said Commander Monnk. “Must have been some battle.”

“Indeed, commander,” the croaky voice of Master Yoda drew their attention. The little green Jedi was wielding his green lightsabre and wearing an oxygen mask that had been put on in a rush. The ancient creature didn’t even have a wet suit. “Escape, we had to. Battle now, we must.”

“Let’s free my people!” Prince Lee Char shouted, charging at the droids with his rifle-blaster. His Republican bodyguards followed him.

[][][]

The battle was very short. The gungans were a welcome force and they had tried to free many prisoners, but they lacked the numbers to score a significant advantage. The prisoners were mostly women and children.

Then the Separatists unleashed their trident-class assault ships that were capable of unleashing whole hurricanes in the water.

To the horror of his protectors, the Prince was locked in a battle with the shark ambassador. Ahsoka force pushed Tamson as he was about to sink his teeth into the young prince and Ares sliced down a droid that was about to shoot their charge.

“Ahsoka! Ares! Take the Prince and get out of here!” Anakin roared before he swam off to single-handedly destroy a whole assault ship. They obeyed their general.

As if reading one another’s minds, Ahsoka gave Ares her cable rope for him to assemble while she swam to fetch the Prince out of danger. The three of them skidded down to safety and took refuge behind a rock, watching as their comrades got captured by their enemies.

They watched the Karkadon roar in frustration and order his troops to find the prince.

“Now, we are the only ones left,” said the Prince, dismayed and disheartened.

“I’m sorry, Lee Char,” said Ahsoka.

“I know what I must do. I know my people need me. I just don’t know how to win this war,” said the prince.

“Hey, kid, don’t worry. Harder battles than this have been won,” said Ares, patting the Prince’s shoulder firmly. “We’ll be able to think more clearly once we’re out of danger. Let’s get a move on. The droids will be coming around here for patrol soon.” The Prince seemed unmoved by Ares’ words, still too emotionally disheartened by this defeat.

“Look, I know you’re scared,” said Ahsoka, taking his fin in her hand to comfort him, “but you can’t let your fear control you.”

“Aren’t you scared?” he asked.

“I used to be, all the time, until I realised that if you make decisions out of fear, you’re more likely to be wrong,” said Ahsoka.

“I promise I will unify Mon Cala!” Lee Char declared.

“Great, you can start fulfilling that promise by getting out of here,” Ares whisper hissed at his two comrades, who finally heeded his warnings and began to swim for cover.

[][][]

A memory wafted into Ares’ brain as they swan to safety. There was no rhyme or reason to it. It just… popped into his brain.

_He was about 9 and sitting side by side with his sister. There was a chessboard before each twin. The games started long ago._

_Their opponent was Wodin, who sat with his back to them, facing the window and looking out onto Raxus’ countryside as the rain beat down upon it. There had been a glass in his hand with some whiskey and ice. He was resting from weeks of work. The toll of the Confederacy was taxing even on the old man. They both loved him like a father. Wodin had been the supportive presence both children lacked from the coldness of Count Dooku._

_Even whilst playing two separate games and not looking at either boards, the Admiral was winning. Ares watched as he sipped his glass, savouring the taste of the poisonous liquid. In retrospect, Ares wondered if the Admiral knew that his death was so quickly approaching._

_“I give up!” Pallas groaned and pushed her king piece down in surrender._

_“No,” said Wodin, patiently. “Pallas, that’s against our rules. You’re not allowed to surrender.” She groaned loudly and put her king piece back into its standing position. Then she put her head in both her hands and continued to glare at her chessboard. “Ares, what’s your move?” asked the Admiral._

_“Knight takes rook on B6,” said Ares. He was losing badly._

_“Beware the pawn, for she can become a Queen,” said the old man. The back of Wodin’s head had never seemed cleverer to Ares. “Pawn to C8 becomes Queen. Check. Careful of being outflanked, Ares.”_

_Ares had looked over to his sister, who was trying to burn a hole in the back of Wodin’s skull with a fiery glare. “He’s playing both of us,” she muttered._

_He could hear the smirk spread on Wodin’s face. “I don’t know what you mean, kid,” he said._

_“Ares, we’re playing the same game on both boards against one another,” said Pallas as she flipped the boards. Ares saw that the pieces seemed almost identical, with only a few alterations. Wodin had corrected their mistakes, but ultimately the strategies were symmetrical. “He’s using my strategies on you and your strategies on me. Wodin, you’re a phony!” she accused._

_“Very perceptive, my lady. Very well done,” he said. The praise seemed to be worth more than gold and Ares had that burning envious feeling in his chest of not seeing the blatantly obvious sooner. Wodin spun in his chair and looked at the two boards. “Sometimes, the pawns of the game are those that don’t even know it, little one. Very well done.”_

_Ares remembered staring at the boards in wonder, marvelling the supernatural intelligence of this man and wanting to be like him, to have so much cunning and cleverness. He had realised that day that all the force abilities in the universe didn’t compare to a well-made mind._

[][][]

Once they reached a suitable enough hideout, the three of them rested, began devising their next move and looked out over their shoulders for the droid patrols that plagued them constantly. The Prince looked pitiful.

“We can’t hide forever,” said Prince Lee Char.

“The Gungan Army was the last of the Republic’s reinforcements. There won’t be anymore,” said Ahsoka.

“Well… there might be, but it will be too late. Aqua-clones are notoriously difficult to equip,” said Ares.

“The fault is mine, not the Republic’s,” bemoaned the prince. “If my father were here, he could re-unite Nosso Ri and the Quarren. I can’t believe I could be so deluded to think I could actually lead my people!” The young prince seemed to sink into himself.

Ares looked at the fish with sympathy. “Hey, I know about the temptation to feel that your father is omnipotent and that you are not worthy of him. Every son feels that. You feel that you don’t have his wisdom, his strengths, or the respect that people seem to naturally give him. You don’t even have his allies. But the thing that you need to understand is that those that have come before you are not infallible. They are not gods.” Ares reached out and touched the Prince’s shoulder, reassuringly. “In this situation, mourning your father will not aid you, but using the strengths that you do have just might.”

The Mon Calamari was grateful. “Thank you, Captain Ares, but what can I do? We have nothing.”

“When you plan a strategy to defeat your enemies, it is important to think about what it is they fear,” said Ares, his mind racing with thousands of lessons that had been taught to him, whether from his biological or surrogate fathers. “You cannot let yourself be controlled by it, as Ahsoka pointed out, but it can be a useful tool to defeat one’s enemies. If I know Dooku and Pallas, what they fear most is the love and loyalty that your people have for you. You represent to them freedom. The Mon Calamari love you. Do not scowl at such unique gift. I too was once a crown prince and I miss the gift of love every day.”

“Then, I know what I must do. The Mon Cala and Quarren must be reunited,” said the Prince.

“Ok, I like your thinking, but what’s the strategy?” asked Ahsoka, speaking out for the first time. She had been watching both boys.

“Tell all the prisoners: Mon Calamari, Gungans, clones. If we fought together, we would outnumber our opponent,” said the Prince.

“If this is going to work, we’ll need to let your people know,” said Ahsoka. “They’ll have to be ready to fight.”

“We need Captain Ackbar and I think I know where to find him,” said the Prince, swimming off and leading them to the labour camps on the outskirts of the capital city.

[][][]

“Have you been able to re-establish the communications with the planet?” Count Dooku asked his daughter. He had observed the battle she had fought with the Republic reinforcements. It was quite an impressive spectacle.

“No, I haven’t. They are unresponsive. The planetary scan has reported that their radar has been destroyed – the entire building has collapsed.”

A droid approached the pair of them. “Sirs, a ship is approaching. They are soldiers from Karkadon.”

“Good. Let them through,” said Count Dooku to the droid and then looked down at his daughter. “Tamson will be able to assert control of Mon Cala now and you can return my fleet to its original position where it is crucial that it stays. My business with the Umbarans is critical.”

“But… Mon Cala!” Pallas wanted to argue.

“Tamson will kill the prince and take control of the planet suitably without your supervision,” said Count Dooku.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She turned to the droid. “Return the fleet to Umbara!”

[][][]

“It’s a prison camp,” stated Lee Char as they arrived upon their destination.

“How can you be sure Captain Ackbar is inside?” asked Ahsoka.

“There’s only one way to find out,” said Lee Char, getting ready to swim inside with the droid patrol.

Ares caught the Prince’s shoulder. “Uh-uh, we’re not imprisoning ourselves with no way out.” He focused on the force to hear the code of the entryway that disabled the energy shields. “7340-h6425,” he said aloud. “Remember that, both of you.”

They waited for the droids to escort their newest batch of prisoners inside and then snuck in, undetected. Lee Char appeared before his people and gave them a rousing speech to rally their courage and hope for his coronation. He promised them liberty and peace.

Ares in the meantime caught sight of a familiar face, Commander Monnk, who swam up to them and advised to hide from the view of the droids. In the centre of the prison camp, a show had been put on by the droids. It seemed that every hour a soldier was killed before the very eyes of all the prisoners. This brutal practise was there to suck all the hope from the souls of the prisoners and remind them that no one was coming to save them, not even the strong soldiers of the Republic.

It was a misinterpretation of Pallas’ orders to kill the soldier prisoners, by which she meant swiftly and efficiently, not publicly. Tamson had not understood the instructions to avoid making martyrs. For while Pallas was capable of savage cruelty, she understood that an excess would be counterproductive – a lesson the Karkadons did not understand.

As they passed the hordes of prisoners, their faces hopeless and beaten, the sight of their prince brought them hushed joy.

They found Captain Ackbar wounded and being nursed by Senator Tiils. “Prince, I knew you would survive the battle,” he said.

“Captain, I need your help. I have a plan. I know how we can win this fight,” said Lee Char and he began briefing his captain on his plan. “… I’ll find Nosso Ri. He was my father’s friend. I know he’ll listen.”

“I’ll marshal the remains of our forces. What will be your signal?” said Commander Monnk.

“When the Quarren strike, that will be your sign,” said Lee Char, just before guards descended upon them.

“You are under arrest!” they proclaimed. Ares and Ahsoka ignited their lightsabres, ready to defend the prince.

“No! Stay your blades, my friends,” he told them, and they reluctantly complied. “I am Prince Lee Char, leader of the Mon Calamari, and I demand to speak to your superiors.”

[][][]

They were brought to the throne room of Mon Cala where Tamson was waiting for him, seated on the throne and Nosso Ri sat by his side.

“Greetings, Prince,” said the shark, laughing manically. “We meet again. I must admit you were more difficult to capture that I anticipated. You have my respect, as hunter to his prey.”

Ares looked to Ahsoka, hoping that she would be able to sense his thoughts through the force as Lee Char and Tamson verbally sparred over their claim to Mon Cala.

 _Do you think we could use a force-trick on Nosso Ri… or Tamson? With our combined effort, we might be able to do it,_ he prodded.

She cast him a subtle glare. _Be patient. The Prince may surprise you,_ was her reply. He was amazed at how clear he heard her voice through the force. It was like they were physically speaking to one another.

“As long as I live, I shall give all people of Mon Cala hope to fight another day,” said the Prince.

“Hm, hope. We are of the same mind, Prince. That is why I have scheduled your public execution. Take him away!” Tamson declared, laughing manically and drunk on his new power. He had ignored the forgiving words that the Prince conveyed to the Quarren before he and his two bodyguards were dragged away.

_You still want to be patient?_

_Just wait for the signal._

[][][]

Cuffed and guarded by aquadroids that held their weapons, Ahsoka and Ares watched their Jedi friends get brought out of their prison cells to come and watch the public execution.

“Good job, protecting the prince, both of you,” Anakin drawled sarcastically. He, Fisto and Yoda were encased in a massive cage made of eels.

“It’s all part of the plan, master,” said Ahsoka, smirking.

“I was hoping you were going to say something like that. Anything I can do?” asked Anakin.

“Unfortunately, this time, it is out of our hands,” said Ahsoka.

“Doesn’t have to be, but for some reason you keep insisting it,” Ares muttered beside her.

“I’m not sure I like this plan after all,” said Anakin.

The execution began. The method that had been chosen for his death was via Karkadon. Perhaps unimaginative, but certainly a gruesome and symbolic way to go.

“We can’t let him become a martyr,” said Ares, fidgeting out of his cuffs.

“He’s willing to sacrifice himself for his people… all his people. He’s doing what you told him to do,” Ahsoka replied as she took a deep breath. “Relax. I have a good feeling about this.”

The sharks circled and shot their hungry mouths at the boy only to become clouded and disorientated in a fog of black ink. Nosso Ri had rescued the prince and held him in his fins. His Quarren troops started firing and with the aid of the remaining Mon Cala and clones, who had surreptitiously been armed, overpowered the droids and Karkadons.

“Now, you can sate your impatience,” said Ahsoka, before she pushed off a droid, kicked it and regained possession of her two lightsabres. Ares, unable to perform her level of acrobatics, force summoned his father’s lightsabre, cut his bonds, and then sliced the droid in half. They both freed Skywalker and Fisto and then the senators.

The chaotic battle erupted again in the ocean. Lee Char faced off his father’s killer. With a well-aimed shot to a detonator, the underwater war was won.

[][][]

“May the blessings of the water keep you! The might of your ancestors give you strength,” proclaimed the arch-priest as he presented the crown of Mon Cala. Nosso Ri took hold of it and anointed their king with its pearls.

“As representative of the Quarren people, I pledge our loyalty to you,” said Nosso Ri, bowing before him.

“And as your new king, I pledge my loyalty to all people of Mon Cala!” declared the king.

“I present King Lee Char!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and shouts of “Long live the king!” and peace seemed to be restored.

In their little group of Republicans, Ares brooded aloud to their peers.

“All this conflict and death… for what? This whole war could have been avoided if the Quarren and Mon Calamari had just talked their problems out without any influences, Separatist or Republican,” said Ares.

His broodings had a marked reaction on the Senator Amidala. “That’s…. that’s what I’ve been trying to say the whole war! But no one listens. No one wants to talk their issues out,” said the senator. 

“Tamson was here. We had to get involved,” reasoned Skywalker.

“Yeah, Tamson came here with his ideologies and brought his troops, but so did we. Can someone tell me the point of it all?” said Ares.

“In war, lose sight of right and wrong, we all do,” said Yoda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Please remember to REVIEW. A small price to pay to show your appreciation.


	12. Slaves of a System

#  **Chapter 12 – Slaves of a System**

Republic forces landed on the planet of Kiros ten rotations too late. As they unloaded tanks, walkers, and speeders in preparation to face whatever the Separatists had prepared for them, everyone could feel that it was too quiet.

They traversed the terrain on speeders. Anakin piloted his with Ahsoka as his gunner and Obi-Wan drove his with Ares by his side. They hoped that the colonists were hiding, which would be fortunate in an impending battle. While the colonists may have been hiding, the Separatist droids most certainly were not. Biker droids appeared from around the corner and started blasting.

Ares pressed the cannon buttons. He looked to his side and saw Ahsoka, ever the Jedi, deflecting blaster fire back with her lightsabres.

After making short work of the biker droids, they set up a perimeter around the city.

“Cody, any word about the Separatist commander?” Kenobi asked.

Cody nodded. “He’s barricaded himself inside. His name is Pompeii Denturri.” The name instantly caught Ares’ attention. Cody pulled out a hologram and showed it to the others. The form of Ares’ old friend, now bedecked in the uniform of a commander from his home-world, appeared before them.

“Ares, my old friend, come to the tower. Bring your general. We will negotiate terms for surrender,” he said. There was a look in his eyes that Ares didn’t know how to read. He had not seen his friend in a really long time.

“Well that was easy. Friend of yours?” Kenobi asked his young, stunned captain.

The hologram receiver suddenly darted out of Cody’s palm and into Skywalker’s, who crushed it with a seething rage. The young Jedi’s seeping fury was exactly the hit of energy Ares needed to come back to his senses. “Zygerrian scum! I’ll handle that slaver!” Skywalker growled, earning the attention and concerned looks of his padawan.

“Anakin, he asked for me,” said Kenobi.

“Actually, he asked for me and my general,” added Ares.

“Which is me. We’ll deal with this,” said Kenobi.

Skywalker’s angry eyes darted at Ares. “Why was he calling for you?”

Ares’ voice dried in his throat. He was, inexplicably, nervous. “He um… he’s a friend of mine from Raxus. I grew up with him. My sister went to school with him. He’s the bastard son of the Zygerrian Queen. Seems to have risen up in the world recently,” said Ares.

“You grew up with slavers?” Skywalker asked, hatred bubbling inside.

“First of all, slavery was not an issue we discussed much! I didn’t have to think about it when I was a kid. My Zygerrian friends were more than slavers… they were people with personalities and characters who I enjoyed spending time with,” said Ares. Skywalker’s teeth and fists were so clenched that he could have killed the boy. “And secondly, my friendships were often political. My father made us make friends with the children of his allies to ensure their loyalties. Bankers, slavers, politicians wouldn’t dare defy him if they knew that my father knew their children.”

“Anakin, I need you to locate the missing Togruta colonists,” said Kenobi, trying to diffuse the tension.

Skywalker scowled. “Fine. I’ll have Admiral Yularen initiate a planetary bio-scan.” He stomped off, stewing in rage.

Ahsoka approached them tentatively. “What’s up with him?”

Kenobi sighed heavily and revealed to them about Skywalker’s childhood as a slave, which answered a lot of questions about the troubled, passionate Jedi Knight, who carried the wounds of his past on his shoulders.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him,” Ahsoka promised.

“Yes, make sure that you do,” said Kenobi, before he turned away and started walking towards the outpost of the Zygerrian commander. “Anything you want to warn me about your friend before we meet him?”

“Yeah, he hates Jedi,” Ares said simply.

“That’s very useful,” said Kenobi, sarcastically.

[][][]

The offices of the governor were filled with cages that encased the little, pretty native birds. They squawked and chirped in their prisons miserably. In the governor’s seat, Pompeii sprawled himself as if on a throne, surrounded by the cages. Power spoiled him.

A lift brought Kenobi and Ares up and the captain stood before his old friend now turned enemy.

Droid guns clicked. Their aim set on the Republicans. “Would you believe it? We have the Prince of the Confederacy himself in our presence,” Pompeii said mockingly. Ares winced at the nickname. “Forgive me if I don’t remember the proper courtesy. Am I supposed to bow down and kiss your boots, Your Highness?”

The words were said harshly. If it was anyone else in the galaxy standing before him, Ares would have replied with irony and sarcasm. However, Pompeii was one of the few people that Ares had mourned when he betrayed the Confederacy. Memories of the good old times flooded into his brain and despair filled his heart as he realised what he was here to do.

“It’s good to see you again, Pompeii,” Ares replied calmly.

“I wish I could say the same, vile traitor!” Pompeii screeched, thundering out of his seat. He had grown much since Ares had seen him last. Zygerrians populated widely and grew fast. “I didn’t believe it when I heard it at first. How it could be possible that Ares of Serenno, Count Dooku’s pride and joy, had betrayed the Confederacy? But now that I see you, you disgust me. Your whole family has led us through this war. Your father is the Head of State, your brother laid down the creed of the war and designed our troops and your sister leads them in battle. Now, you are the disappointment. The disappointment of the whole family!”

Every word that Pompeii said felt like a stab. The shame prickled and swelled in his chest and face. Ares wondered why it suddenly hurt so much to be confronted about his treachery. He realised that it was this kind of outburst of hateful emotions that he had missed from his sister when she found out. Her speeches were sad where Pompeii was a torrent of vengeful violence.

“Forgive me, commander, but we are here to discuss surrender, not your personal history,” said Kenobi, trying to steer the focus back to the goal.

Seeming to only just notice the Jedi standing beside Ares, the Zygerrian laughed aloud. “Yes, _your_ surrender.”

“We obviously have a misunderstanding,” said Kenobi, crossing his hands behind his back and, as Ares noticed out of the corner of his eye, activating his commlink so that their comrades below could hear the conversation. “You are no doubt aware that your droid forces have been destroyed and you are surrounded. Do the honourable thing and give up now, Commander Pompeii. I promise you’ll receive fair treatment.”

Pompeii looked about as interested in surrender as he was in becoming a Jedi. “You broke through my defences. You think you’ve won? Think again. I have planted bombs all over the city. No one can survive if I give the order.”

“What are you doing, Pompeii?” Ares found his voice again. “You’re a businessman! You’re not a killer.”

“These days those things are one and the same,” replied Pompeii, as he took a detonator and pushed the button. A horrific eruption burst in the close distance that shook the floor. Kenobi ran to the window to see the damage and witnessed one of the colony’s buildings become a fiery wreckage of ash. Ares remained where he was, glaring at the Zygerrian. “There were no colonists in that structure… but there could have been,” Pompeii said. “Now bow down and surrender.”

Kenobi put down his lightsabre first and urged, with a look, for his captain to follow his lead. “We surrender,” said the Jedi. The Zygerrian grinned.

“Ares?” Pompeii asked, seeing that Ares kept the curved lightsabre in his hand.

The young man knew they needed to stall time. Skywalker and Ahsoka would have heard the message and would have seen the explosion. They needed time to disable those bombs. Ares wracked his brain for a distraction. Surrender only took so much time.

“Wow, I honestly expected more from you, Zygerria,” said Ares. “I guess your bastard nature is showing through. You’ve been lazy.”

If Pompeii knew how to get under Ares’ skin, then Ares certainly knew what would prick Pompeii’s pelt – patriotism and pride.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Pompeii.

“I’ll surrender if you can beat me. You know how little I care about other people. You will not make me bow through fear, but I will give you the opportunity to in the traditional Zygerrian way. No weapons, no force-tricks. Just hand-to-hand combat with nothing but our brute strength until one of us is unable to stand up,” said Ares. He threw down his father’s lightsabre on the floor between them, like a gauntlet. “The loser bows to the winner and surrenders.”

Pompeii was tempted. There was that spark in his eye. He hadn’t had a good fight for a long time, but he was still sceptical. “You always lost those when we were kids,” said Pompeii.

“I’d like to think my time with Jedi has refined my skills. What do you say, Zygerria?” Ares said. “Say no and you’ll be worse than a traitor – you’ll be a coward.”

The mere suggestion of cowardice earned Ares a punch in the face. _Wow, go fragile masculinity much,_ thought Ares as he cracked his jaw back into place.

“Did I break something?” asked Pompeii. “No, no, no! We can’t have you mute! I want you to know what I broke!” He hooked another blow. There was a resounding crack.

He blocked Pompeii’s next series of savage attacks and kicks.

“You still fight like a little girl,” Pompeii sneered. Ares used this moment of distraction to hook his own strike, hitting Pompeii’s mouth, throat, and gut with his copper-gold hand. It cracked a little with the impact but remained functional. Pompeii let out a howl of pain.

“You scream like one,” replied Ares, grabbing Pompeii by his ears, and dragged his face down to hit his knee. Pompeii then used his low ground to butt his horned head into Ares’ stomach and try to gore him. Ares fell back, taking hold of Pompeii’s sides to steer him off.

Pompeii sat on top of Ares and pummelled the captain with a fist. “Why did you do it? You’ve always hated the Republic and the Jedi! Why did you join them!? Why would you betray your people?!” shouted Pompei. There were black spots in Ares’ vision now and he could feel his body yielding. “Once a prince, now a slave of the Republic! Slave to the Jedi! You have become the thing you swore to destroy!” Pompeii’s claws made a firm grip on Ares’ throat, choking oxygen out of him. “Get ready to become one with the force, traitor!”

A hologram interrupted them, and an apologetic droid appeared before them. “Um… sorry, sir, but you weren’t responding. Your bombs have all been disabled.”

Ares’ purple, strangled face was given a brief reprieve as Pompeii reeled away at the messenger. “What?!” he screamed and started pressing the buttons on his wrist detonator, but nothing happened. He then looked around to see that all his droids were destroyed by a smiling Jedi Master who had not been idle during the fight.

Pompeii growled. “Jedi scum!” he screamed and charged at Kenobi who, with a simple lift of the hand, suspended his opponent in the air and slammed him inside of the cages with its pretty, little birds.

With the slaver in his cage, Kenobi ran up to the beaten captain. “Ares! Can you hear me?”

“I’m… not as good at combat… as I thought I’d be,” Ares said, his voice trembling. Everything hurt.

Kenobi chuckled. “Can you get up?”

With the aid of his general Ares attempted it but roared aloud in pain. “I think he broke a rib or two,” said Ares, touching his sides. 

“Come on. We’ll get you to a medical droid,” said Kenobi, slugging the boy’s hand over his shoulder. He dialled Cody on his commlink. “Commander send up a squad. There’s a Separatist commander here that needs detainment.”

“Right away, sir!” came the soldier’s immediate reply.

[][][]

They had the Council meeting in the medical bay whilst Ares was being patched up. _Jedi time management was incredible_ , thought Ares idly. Yularen had reported that, bizarrely, the colonists were not there.

“You mean they’re not in the city?” asked Skywalker, incredulously.

“I’m saying they’re not even on the planet,” said Yularen. “The entire population seems to have simply vanished.”

“Vanished?” Ahsoka couldn’t believe it. “That’s impossible. Those are my people.” As if belonging to a people made them immune to awful events.

The Jedi shared their fears about the rise of the Sith through the growth of slavery. Ares wanted to laugh aloud, and, against his intentions, a snicker escaped him.

“Something funny for you, captain,” said Windu, with a critical eye on the young man.

“Slavery has been around even before you were busy with the clone wars. The Hutt territories, the Outer Rim, Kessel spice mines, Zygerria, heck even the lower levels of Coruscant. I grew up with slavers and they’ve always been rich. Your order has been incapable of erasing slavery for centuries. It’s not a sudden, unprecedented crisis, Master Jedi,” said Ares. His words earned him the fierce looks of every single Jedi in the room.

“Excuse my captain. He’s still on anaesthetics,” said Kenobi. Ares rolled his eyes but said nothing more for the rest of the meeting. What was the point?

When it ended, Ares was faced with a furious Jedi Master and two awkward spectators. “Ares!” Kenobi barked angrily. _Here we go._ “Does it ever occur to you to keep your dissatisfaction with the Jedi Order to yourself? Or at least not vent them so publicly to the Jedi Council?”

Ares avoided eye-contact and didn’t speak. He would hope that Kenobi would drop this argument. He had been doing a lot of thinking since he had met Pompeii. Questions were being asked of himself. Pompeii had been right – he had always hated the ideals of the Republic. He had come to the Jedi in search of allies against his father. All he had wanted was vengeance and patricide. It had been almost two years since he had joined them and had been fighting for a political cause he didn’t believe in and against people that he loved. A whole year of service that he had given to them and he was nowhere nearer to Dooku’s demise. The frustration grew with every passing moment he spent thinking about it.

A sudden hatred for the Jedi rushed into his blood. They were as blind as his father had always believed they would be. All such disgusting hypocrites; there was much darkness in the order of the light. He was beginning to think that he had made a terrible mistake.

“Permission to return to my quarters, general,” said Ares, through gritted teeth.

“Denied—” Kenobi said, crossing his arms.

“Master,” Skywalker tried to step in, but was silenced by the rise of Kenobi’s hand.

“We need you to participate in your friend’s interrogation. We need to find the location of the colonists,” said Kenobi. “You know our prisoner best.”

“Call me when your Jedi morals fail,” said Ares, staring up painfully and tucking his arm away in the sling the medical droid prescribed for him. “I don’t have the stomach to interrogate my old friend.”

He began walking away when Kenobi stopped him.

“That’s an order, Ares,” he said, sterner than he’d ever heard Kenobi address him. Ares knew that he had no choice but to obey. The imaginary chains around his wrists and throat suddenly felt very heavy. What had he sold himself into?

[][][]

“I can sense your strong feelings,” Ares said to Ahsoka. They were walking side by side to the interrogation room on the Republic cruiser. “You and Skywalker are a pair about this mission. Such strong emotions in both of you.”

She thought about whether or not to tell him for a good long moment. “When I was a child, a slaver came to my village. Rumours had spread that a little Togruta girl had shown force-wielding abilities and saw an opportunity to make quick money if he posed as a Jedi coming to collect a youngling. The villagers tried to make me do tricks to show him, but I could sense that he was untrustworthy and wouldn’t budge. I still remember how angry the villagers were with me for doing what I felt was right,” she said. Ares said nothing. “Anyway, it amounted to nothing. Master Plo showed up and dealt with him before I was stolen and he brought me to the temple where I belonged, but I still sometimes wonder what my life would be like if Master Plo didn’t come.”

“I… didn’t know that,” he said, uncomfortable. He had always known that she and Koon shared a bond but had never been curious enough to inquire about it.

“Why would you,” she said with a shoulder shrug. “After all, you grew up a rich boy who didn’t think about slaves.”

Ares felt a cold rush of shame pour over him.

[][][]

Aside from their prisoner, the interrogation room contained Ares, Kenobi, Ahsoka and CL-Y. Kenobi had been fearful that Skywalker would lose his cool with a slaver and jump to violence and so he was politely asked to wait outside.

Pompeii looked at them with a crooked, sceptical eyebrow. “So… what’s going to happen to me? You going to execute me for war crimes?” He didn’t look scared, but Ares knew better. Pompeii had never been a war prisoner before.

“I don’t know,” said Ares quietly, not looking at Pompeii.

“Being a slaver a crime now?” Pompeii challenged.

Ares could feel Ahsoka’s feelings flare up and her stepping forward, only to be stopped by a warning hand of Kenobi, who cautioned patience.

“I don’t know,” Ares repeated. It was painful to be made to do this. He always thought he’d be the type of person who didn’t betray his friends or send them to the hands of his enemy and yet that is precisely what he had suddenly become. “Where are the colonists?”

“It’s good to know you haven’t joined the Jedi completely. Your hand to hand combat is so shoddy that it’s evident you haven’t been practi—"

Ares cut him off, slamming his fist against the desk and raising his voice. “Pompeii, where are the colonists?”

“I’m not a traitor. I will not betray my people and their ways,” said Pompeii.

“What if we give you your freedom?” Ares said. There was a twist of interest in Pompeii’s face.

“Now, wait a minute!” Kenobi suddenly jerked up. “Let’s discuss this.” The thought of letting this disgusting slaver go was unthinkable to the Jedi Master. Ahsoka nodded in agreement, eager to see justice served to the enslaver of her people.

Ares glared at him. “You want to prove to be a noble Jedi who still upholds the values of the innocent lives over the justice for one slaver? Now’s your chance.” Kenobi glared but conceded. This might have been Ares’ one chance at getting the information out of his friend and not have friendship’s blood on his hands.

“No deal,” replied Pompeii, smugly, putting his cuffed arms behind his head and leaning back.

Ares turned his glare at the Zygerrian, clutched his fist, lifted his friend with the Force, and slammed him against the wall. “I suggest you think a little harder about the value to your life. Your old life and school with Bonterri on Raxus suddenly sound much more appealing, doesn’t it?” He released Pompeii. “Now, where are the colonists?”

Pompeii fell to his knees, coughing and clutching at his throat. “Zygerria. My mother is going to re-open the Royal Slave Auction,” he said, after he recovered.

“Why?” asked Ares.

Pompeii gave him a look that questioned the youth’s intelligence. “Because she likes being rich… what other reasons are there for re-opening slave auctions?”

Ares looked at Kenobi and Ahsoka. “There. You got what you wanted. The colonists are on Zygerria.”

Kenobi scratched his beard. “Very well. We’ll honour our pact after the colonists have been returned to their colony. We’ll drop him off on a neutral world. _If_ the information is correct.”

[][][]

Ares had been to Zygerria only once. It had been a boys’ weekend before the war started. Pompeii’s father, Bruno Denturri, had taken Ares, Pompeii and Lux fishing on the beautiful, bountiful lakes of Zygerria. Pallas had been on her honeymoon, so both Lux and Ares needed something to distract themselves from heartbreak or brotherly worry, respectively. Ares remembered it being the first time that he had gotten drunk, though he didn’t remember the series of raucous, drunken adventures that followed. It felt unclean to come to Zygerria now, as an enemy.

They were gathered in the cockpit of a ship that used to belong to Pompeii; a good freighter of Zygerrian make.

“Here’s the plan,” said Ares, taking a deep breath. He was dressed in Zygerrian armour and held the helmet under his arm. The black and gold suit was a little large for him, but there was nothing they could do about that now. “We’ll go in two groups. One will find the colonists. The other will keep the Queen occupied. I’m going on the colony finding mission because the Queen might recognise me.” He looked at the two Jedi Masters and thought about who was the more skilled charmer of women. One was running around with a senator thinking that he was being secretive and the other’s love skills seemed to be limited to debating pacifist philosophy. _Choices were lean._ “General Skywalker, you’ll woo the Queen. General Kenobi and I will look for the colonists.” He looked at Ahsoka. “Ahsoka… perhaps you should sit this one out?”

“What? No! Why--?” her response was about as rebellious as he had expected. He really should have planned for this reaction.

“Uh… Zygerria is not a place where people of your… ancestry walk freely… and… no offence, but you don’t act much like a slave. Your wilfulness can be seen a mile away,” he said. Speaking about her made his cheeks flush. Her wilful, proud qualities were traits that he loved about her, but the look on her face showed that she took it with offence.

“Don’t worry. I have an idea for Ahsoka,” said Skywalker, smirking. He disappeared into the back of the ship for a moment and brought out a slave’s outfit. He passed it to Ahsoka who roughly measured the size.

“Skywalker, why do you have that lying around?” Ares groaned. “More importantly, why do you have it in Ahsoka’s size?”

Ahsoka looked at her master for an explanation too. Skywalker crossed his arms. “For your information, it was on your friend’s ship, not mine. Ask him.”

Ares pinched his eyes and avoided looking at the padawan. “Alright, anyway. Wooing the Queen shouldn’t be too difficult. She likes bold, handsome men with a lust for blood. Is that something you can manage, Skywalker?”

Skywalker chuckled. “Be myself, you mean.”

“If you enjoy capturing and selling slaves in your downtime, then sure. Whatever rocks your boat,” said Ares. “Pompeii is one of many illegitimate children of the Queen and she hates her past lovers with a peculiar passion. She often makes young lovers kill her old ones to prove their worthiness. Pompeii’s father is a man called Bruno Denturri. If you tell her that you killed him, you’ll impress her. The man lives all the way on Raxus. It’ll probably take her a few days to check if your information is accurate.”

“Sounds good,” said Skywalker.

[][][]

“Zygerria looks like a popular place these days,” said Skywalker, piloting their ship through the Zygerrian traffic.

“Whatever it is, it’s attracting a lot of high-class… scum,” said Kenobi.

Ares rolled his eyes, pat CL-Y on the head affectionately and went to the back. He knocked on the door of the room Ahsoka was in. “Hey, you ready?” He asked through the door. “We’re landing soon.”

It had not been his intention to go inside, but she responded with an invitation. “Come in. Look at me. Objectify me. Tell me if my slave disguise looks convincing enough,” she said, jokingly.

Never one to deny himself to look at a beautiful woman, especially a woman he was in love with, Ares shrugged, walked through and froze. The girl of his dreams stood before him in a skin-tight blue gown that could have passed for lingerie. Now open on display, the dark orange curves of her body sent his imagination into mad frenzy. His hands twitched with the strong desire to rip everything off and do things that would make her forget about any bloody Code. The image of her burned onto his brain. _Sweet torture._

“Hey, vacuum of space to Ares,” she said, clicking her fingers in his face.

“Uh… it’s just… wow… you look…” he stammered, his voice turning into a high pitch. Was that sweat on his forehead? Why was he sweating in deep space? Everything was suddenly very hot. “Just… uh… I’m gonna…” he moved to the door to escape. He should have flirted and made cheeky suggestions, but all he wanted to do was to run away. _Don’t make a fool of yourself_ , he kept repeating to himself, though he was sure he had already failed.

“Ares, why are you running away?” asked Ahsoka.

“I’m just…” and he slammed the door behind him.

“Boys are such idiots,” said Ahsoka, shrugging, and putting on a black robe over the ridiculous slave-wear. 

[][][]

Ares explained that it would be suicide to be found with a Jedi’s weapon in Zygerria. So, they all gave their lightsabres to R2 for safe keeping and CL-Y would stay on the ship. Then they split up.

Ares had never seen a slave at an auction. Come to think of it, he never really interacted with slaves, except the well-kept cheerful servants of Pompeii’s household in Raxulon. Kenobi and Ares went down to the slave banks to see if the colonists were being presented for auction. There were many banks and hundreds of slaves. They were ravaged, pitiful creatures of all kind of species, though the majority were Twi’leks. Docile, peaceful peoples made for good slaves.

Briefly, Ares imagined that Ahsoka could have been anyone of them. Perhaps there was someone just like Ahsoka amongst them. He found a sudden boost of hatred in his chest for the Jedi Order. If this was what slavery truly was, how could warrior peacekeepers let this to exist for so long?

“General, come. I found the governor,” said Ares, beckoning Kenobi to him. Covered in waste and starving to the ribs of his cage, Governor Roshti was a wretched creature down there. It was no way to treat any creature.

“We need to get him out of here,” said Kenobi, jumping out of the bank, carrying the governor in his arms.

Ares looked at their surroundings. A flying reptile was perched on a high platform nearby and saddled with a rider. Ares took the rider’s throat with the Force and crushed his fist, killing the slaver before he knew what was going on. He force-jumped onto the platform to level with the beast and brought it to heel, dislodging the corpse from the saddle. Ares mounted it, took the reins and descended to Kenobi and the governor.

Some bystanders noticed them. “Hey, what are you doing with that slave!” they shouted.

“I knew this would happen,” said Ares, as he lashed the beast to fly.

Blaster fire rained upon them and the realization that they didn’t have their lightsabres on their person was horrifying. A rogue shot made Kenobi fall and he would have taken the governor with him had Ares not grabbed the Togruta’s hand and kept him on top of the flying lizard. Kenobi was now a prisoner and there was nothing that Ares could do right now to stop that. He and the governor flew on to safety.

Ares put the lizard down near their ship.

“Governor, you’re safe now. Where are the rest of your people?” asked Ares, putting a hand on the old Togruta’s shoulder.

“I… don’t know,” he said, miserable. “I don’t… know… I lost them…” He broke down into tears. He had lost his people to monsters. He had been unable to protect them as their governor.

Ares understood that he wouldn’t be able to get anything out of the man. He pulled out of his pockets a ration bar and offered it to the crying man who must have not eaten in a long time and ordered CL-Y to bring out a decanter of water.

“Don’t worry, governor. We’ll find them,” he promised. _But we need to find Kenobi first_. “Governor, I need you to contact the Republic from the ship’s computer. Tell your story to the Jedi Council and wait for us to come back. We’ll find your people soon,” said Ares, before leaving the man and remounting the lizard again.

[][][]

The Queen was instantly smitten. It was like her master was feeding her out of the palm of his hand. Every absurdity he said was met with encouragement. Was that the secret to seduction? Say anything that came to mind with the utmost, unabashed confidence? Ahsoka cast her mind to the flirtations she’d experienced and confirmed that this seemed to be the case.

“You will be my guest for the auction,” the Queen announced, once she had been sufficiently wooed. A Zygerrian servant ran up to her and whispered something in her ear that made her scowl. “Well… play the transmission then,” she told the servant.

A hologram appeared before the Queen. It was Pallas. Ahsoka noticed that she was now sporting the badge of a general on her lapel. She made a short bow before the Queen. “Greetings, Your Majesty. My name is Pallas of Serenno. I am a General of the Separatist Droid Army and the heir of Count Dooku. My father wishes to send his apologies, but affairs of the state prevent him from attending the opening of the Royal Auction. He has sent me in his place.”

“Very well, general, pleased that you can make it. The auction will be starting in a few hours,” said the Queen.

“Perfect. I have just entered your system and will join you shortly.” Pallas didn’t wait for a response from the Queen. Her transmission ended at the general’s convenience.

Anakin and Ahsoka exchanged glances. Dooku’s brat would blow their cover.

Skywalker cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid that I will not be able to make the Royal Auction if Count Dooku’s kin are attending. Let’s just say that the good general and her father have a grudge against me for one of my feats of dare.”

The Queen stood up from her throne and hooked her arm in Skywalker’s. “Really? Tell me all about it, Lars,” she said. Skywalker would tell her many outlandish stories, but the Queen would not relinquish her possession of him or rescind her invitation to the general.

[][][]

“You want to go out for a smoke. The prisoner won’t be going anywhere,” Ares said, concentrating on the mind-trick on the guard. This was the fourth prison cell he had checked. He was running out of excuses and places for the guards to go without bumping into each other.

“I want to go out for a smoke. The prisoner won’t be going anywhere,” the Zygerrian guard repeated, took his rifle and left his post.

Ares scurried to the unguarded door and force pushed it aside. Inside, a Zygerrian slaver was lashing Kenobi with a long, electric whip and demanding answers. The enduring Jedi Master was silent.

With a twist of Ares’ wrist, the whip’s yellow leash spiralled out control and ensnared around the slaver’s throat. He screamed out in pain as the lightning burned his skin and fell to the ground, dead.

“Ares?” Kenobi said in a dazed way when he saw the youth fighting the Jedi’s shackles. “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing my general,” replied Ares as he tore the metal shackles off Kenobi’s wrists. “What does it look like?”

“Much appreciated—” said Kenobi.

“But if you dare say that ‘you had it all under control’ I will continue what that guy started,” said Ares, kicking the slaver’s lifeless form. “Take his clothes and let’s get out of here. We need to get to the Auction,” he said, heartlessly, ignoring the wounds and lashes of blood on Kenobi’s body. _Serves him right,_ Ares thought viciously. He was still angry with Kenobi.

The Jedi didn’t argue and kept his eyes down whilst he changed.

[][][]

The auction had started.

“General Pallas, Your Majesty,” the prime minister announced to the Queen with a bow. Skywalker and Ahsoka tensed. She flicked her hand to allow the young woman into her presence. The teenage general presented herself to the Queen with a bow and then her eyes flitted to the Togruta servant by her side and the helmeted slaver attempting to disguise herself behind her master’s large frame.

“Welcome to Zygerria, General,” said the Queen, presenting the general with her hand to kiss, but the young woman ignored it, forcing the Queen to lower her arm awkwardly, and instead kept her gaze on the two other guests of the Queen.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I was unaware that you would invite Jedi to a slave auction. Seems quite counterproductive,” said Pallas.

As well as the droids that made up her escort, the general’s very words made the Zygerrian guards surround the two Jedi and point their blasters at them. Dooku’s and his daughter’s authority weighed to them as much as the Queen’s, if not more.

“Jedi?” The Queen asked with confusion. “What does she mean, Lars? Who are you?!”

The two Jedi were cornered and would not put up without a fight. Skywalker force pushed the Zygerrian guards and Ahsoka jumped between the droids so that they would shoot one another. Disposing of the royal guard, Skywalker force gripped Pallas by the throat and slammed the young woman against the wall. With one hand Pallas struggled futilely against the invisible force that was crushing her throat and with the other reached for her blaster pistol and shot it at the Jedi, hitting his shoulder. Skywalker roaring pain released Pallas from the chokehold.

Ahsoka who had disposed of her fair share of guards was stopped by her shock-collar exploding with a wave of electricity. She screamed and fell.

“Ahsoka!” Skywalker screamed out.

Seizing the opportunity, the Zygerrian royal guards subdued him. Pallas, who recovered from the strangulation, stood back up, gripping her blaster pistol firmly in her hand and stood beside the Queen. “This is not the hospitality I was expecting, Your Majesty, but it is certainly one that I am happy to receive.” She turned on the stun setting and shot Skywalker with it, sending him into a deep sleep.

“Master!” Ahsoka shouted out from the ground but was promptly zapped by the Queen into silence once again.

“With your permission, Your Majesty, I’ll be taking them with me. My father will be most pleased to learn of their capture,” said Pallas, forming her order as a request. However, the Queen who seemed to still be deluded with her crown, glowered at the young general.

“No, I think not, young general. You are my honoured guest, not my master. These are trespassers that will become my slaves. If you want them, you’ll have to buy them,” said the Queen.

“Buy them?! You must be joking,” Pallas was appalled at the disrespect and looked around the room. Ahsoka had dismantled all her bodyguards. She didn’t hold any muscle power for now. It was her father that was the Queen’s master, not her. Perhaps this was a battle for another time. “I warn you that Jedi make for poor slaves. They’re not worth the effort or the credits, Your Majesty.”

“We’ll see,” said the Queen, looking at Skywalker’s unconscious form.

[][][]

In their disguises, Ares and Kenobi managed to enter the Royal Slave Auction. The auction had begun and all sorts of slaves were being paraded before the customers. There were so many of them, more slaves than slavers. Many of them were the Togruta colonists that they were looking for.

“What do we do now?” asked Ares quietly, careful to not be overheard. “We found them.”

“If we scare the customers, the auction will be closed and the colonists won’t be sold,” said Kenobi. “Force that column down.” He pointed to one of the pillars that supported a wing of spectators on the opposite side of the arena. Working together, the two men managed to bring down the structure without being noticed by anyone around them.

Havoc sent the customers into panic everywhere. The people on that structure were scrambling to get to safety and crying out in pain, while the people on every other structure were doing their best to evacuate before a similar fate befell them. Ares and Kenobi found themselves jostled and pushed against. They both jumped down to the lower platform to help the slaves.

“I don’t see Skywalker or Ahsoka with the Queen,” said Ares, looking at the royal box. R2 was bouncing on his two legs nervously, head spinning wildly. “Something’s wrong…” Ares could feel it. R2 shot out four lightsabres from his head. Obi-Wan caught his own and Skywalker’s, while Ares reached out for his father’s curved handle and Ahsoka’s ornate straight hilt.

“We can’t worry about them now!” said Kenobi, as he used his weapons to cut the slaves free of their chains.

Ares kept gazing at the Royal Box, confused why the droid had decided to eject the blades without their command and why he had shot all four of them, but then the answer became clear. His sister appeared on the balcony with the Zygerrian Queen and Ares realised that their disguise and plans had become compromised. Their friends must have been captured.

Zygerrian guards began surrounding them with their blasters and whips. Ares ignited both red and green blades and started cutting down the slavers, their whips, and blaster shots. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kenobi get overpowered by slavers, having been too weak from his previous torture interrogation. Now alone and surrounded by hundreds of incoming Zygerrian guards Ares felt despair.

From the Royal box, Pallas watched her brother fight in excellent form with the duel blades. He was violent. His steps were heavy. His strikes were fuelled with rage and hatred, but also fear. “Does anyone in your guard have a sniper, Your Majesty?” she asked.

The captain of the guard brought one to her without the Queen even commanding it. Pallas weighed the weapon, checked the scope and balance, set it on the balcony ledge and fired all in the space of one minute. Had Ares been facing the Royal Box, he would have seen the sun glint off the sniper. The single, well-aimed blast pierced Ares’ ankle, like a blistering wasp sting. He yelled out in pain and was forced to collapse onto one knee. Unable to stand, the slavers quickly overpowered him.

“Nice shot,” said the Queen.

“He must be taken alive,” said Pallas simply. “This one you _will_ grant as a gift out of goodwill.”

[][][]

Ares was dragged by the palace guards while Kenobi was pushed and kicked to walk. During that time, Ares closed his eyes and concentrated his anger and hatred onto the wound in his ankle. The knowledge that the shot had been made by his sister fuelled his violent emotions. By the time he was in the Royal Box and forced to kneel before the Zygerrian Queen, the wound on his ankle was barely felt, even if it was healed by sheer force of will and rage.

Skywalker had been taken away somewhere at the behest of the Queen. Ahsoka was kept there as leverage.

He found his sister, standing tall and proud wearing the admiral long-cloak of her dead husband. His eyes burned with fury at the very sight of her. Forgetting his friends and being blind with ferocity, Ares ripped himself off the grip of the guard, leapt forward and unleashed a torrent of red lightning from the fingertips of his cuffed wrists. All he saw and heard and smelt was his sister screaming and burning.

“Ares!” Kenobi’s terrified voice brought Ares out of his bloodshot fury. 

“Who do you think is going to hold out longer? Your powers or your friend!” The Queen shouted over the thunderous noise of his lightning. The sound of electric shock and screaming made Ares turn to see that the Queen was holding Ahsoka hostage with her shock-collar.

Ares surrendered immediately. The guards took the liberty of shocking him without being ordered to. Ares collapsed; cheek pressed to the cold ground. His sister stood up with a pained grunt and she walked over to him. He could see her boots’ polish from the ground.

“Father has much to discuss with you, but before that happens I will get what I want… where is Pompeii?” she said, getting down to business. “What did you do with my friend?” Ares remained silent. Pompeii would be his leverage.

“We can find him from the Jedi, no?” asked the Zygerrian prime minister.

“A Jedi’s force of will is unbreakable. They can handle incredible pain and not divulge their secrets, but my brother is no Jedi and, more than that, he’s a cowardly traitor. Two components that will get the answer out faster,” said Pallas. 

“General,” said the Queen, turning to the young woman with a slaver’s whip in her hand. “Break him.”

To their surprise, the young woman backed away from the whip with what looked like fear. “You’ll forgive me, but I’m no slaver. I don’t have the stomach to torture the man with whom I shared a womb,” she said, her eyes keen on the object in the Queen’s hand.

Pallas’s fear rushed through his veins, strengthening him. He took a deep breath to calm himself and sat upright. “Oh, but being a monster fits into your moral code? Strike me, you coward. Get your hands dirty. You know nothing—” Ares’ words were cut short by the blinding impact of his sister’s fist colliding with his jaw. Once the boy toppled to the floor with blood in his mouth, Pallas stared at her fist with disbelief, surprised by her own actions.

“Proceed,” she told the Queen. “Have your people find Pompeii but keep my brother alive. My father will want to see his son alive before he dies. They have two rotations.”

“You coward! You spineless coward. You’re just like Father! You deserve him!” Ares screamed as he was dragged out of the royal box.

[][][]

On the journey to the re-education centre, Ares had time to cool his unbridled fury and to strategize their next move. He calmly meditated in the dark voids of his mind and waited for his moment.

The light stung Ares’ eyes when the doors lowered, and they were pushed onto the slaver facility. A sudden push by one of the Zygerrian slavers made Ares stumble forward. Beside him, Kenobi was getting similar treatment.

The warden of the facility was waiting for them. A fat, grey Zygerrian who moulded together with his levitating throne was grinning insidiously at them. He had lined up rows of slaves in a perverse welcoming procession. Their broken spirits bowed before everyone.

“Looks like we found the colonists,” Ares whispered to his general and was immediately hit in the face by one of the guards for talking.

“General Kenobi! Captain Ares! You are the first Jedi and Prince that I have entertained at our educational centre. Few possess your resolve and it is strength of will that is my greatest enemy,” said the warden. He leaned over and pressed a button on his side. Immediately, the floor beneath the feet of seven slaves opened and they disappeared into the gorge beneath, victims of gravity and specs of the wind. Their desperate screams drowned away by the gorge’s enormity. “Now, that I have your attention, be aware that it would not be you who suffers should you defy me.” He laughed enthusiastically at Kenobi’s mournful stare at the places where the slaves disappeared into.

“Whatever you do, don’t provoke them,” Kenobi whispered to his captain. “Remember, we’re here to save the colonists, not get them killed.” Ares said nothing.

The two men were led deeper into the facility and then separated. Kenobi was sent to the labour camps, while Ares was strapped to what looked like an operating table. There were machines of devious shapes, sizes, and sharpness. The warden flew in, giddy with excitement, and the room was full of soldiers and engineers.

“What a terrible loss of profits we witnessed earlier,” Ares said. “What’s a good slave sold for these days? 5? 6,000? That’s just 35,000 credits down a literal drain for nothing, warden. No, not nothing: an impression. A poorly executed one too. You still look like an obese, lazy man to me.” Ares’ intention was to rile up the warden and that is exactly what he achieved. The Zygerrian turned on a holomap and commanded the guards of his facility to execute seven more slaves and made Ares watch it.

“It’s the selfish ones that I enjoy breaking the most,” said the warden.

“If you’re trying to get me to feel guilt warden, you’re failing. You’re a failure. What’s fourteen lives when I’m haunted by thousands? You fool. You fat fool. You fat, stupid fool,” said Ares with the utmost nonchalance. He was focusing on the fears and insecurities of the warden, rifling through his mind to find the glowing cracks of vulnerability. They made him powerful. They fed him. New powers rushed through him as he drank the darkness. “All you’ve done is depleted your own profits. So, you’re a fat, stupid, poor fool. A failure in the eyes of your people and family. Oh, I see them well now… a sister and mother… you’re the patriarch of your family. They were so proud of your appointment and rise, but you’re just a fat, stupid, penniless fool. What will happen when they find out who you really are—"

Gritting his teeth, the warden slammed another button, electrocuting Ares from the collar on his neck and the arm braces. The youth screamed out in agony. “Your sister wants your stay with us to be short, Prince. Give me the location of the Queen’s son. I will not have defiance in my facility,” said the warden. When Ares remained silent, the warden zapped him again and again and again.

When it became clear that more lightning would kill the boy, the warden sent a guard to kick his face. “Yield!” the guard roared. Blood squirted out from the guard’s kick

Ares laughed deranged, the whites of his teeth turning into watery crimson. His hair and skin still buzzing from the electricity. “Yield? You want me to yield?” He seemed to be losing it. “Do you know who I am? I don’t bow to vermin!”

The boy’s eyes glowed a bloody shade of red. The room seemed to shake and tremble around them as if an earthquake was tearing through their building. The guards felt a slow, rising tightness in their throats that was inescapable. The shackles that bonded Ares to the operating table crumpled like paper in a fist and released their prisoner. The heavy collar around his neck broke like a cheap, flimsy necklace. The blasters of the guards disintegrated in their hands.

The Zygerrians looked at the youth with fear and terror. Some tried to stand and fight, and others tried to escape, but ultimately both were thrown against the wall with a red bolt of lightning stabbing through their hearts. Only the warden was left alive and, seeing the carnage from the youth’s power, cowered away in fear begging for his life.

Ares easily summoned his father’s and Kenobi’s lightsabres from the levitating chair of the warden. “Pompeii Denturri will be released in a few days after my friends and I return to our base with the colonists,” said Ares, piercing the Zygerrian’s chest with the red blade, killing him instantly.

[][][]

Any man or creature that was in his way stood no chance. Ares’ journey to the control room was paved with fresh corpses.

Finding Kenobi was easy from the facilities’ computers in the control room. He was doing demoralizing work and hard labour with the rest of the slaves. Ares watched him begging for another slave to not be punished for his mistakes from a screen.

He pulled a freshly slaughtered Zygerrian slaver off the computer keyboard and took the microphone. “Guards! Report to hanger 5. The slaves are rebelling.” Then Ares sat back in the seat, put his feet on the back of a soldier who died from wounds that were still smoking and waited for all the guards to run inside the chamber. Their looks of surprise and confusion when they ran into an empty room were enjoyed by Ares before the floor collapsed under them and they were sent to their rocky deaths in the gorge’s depths. “Guards! Reinforcements are needed in hanger 5. The slaves are rebelling.” Ares repeated the procedure several times until the facility’s guards were so few that the slaves themselves, no doubt spurred on by the ringing announcements that their kin were rebelling, turned on and crushed their captors.

Ares opened all the hangar doors and called the Jedi Council. It was Mace Windu and Yoda who picked up his holo-call. _Do those two ever go on a battlefield?_ Ares thought. “Generals,” said Ares, curtly. “Send a transport to the Kadavo system. I’m sending you the co-ordinates. I found the colonists.”

“Where is General Kenobi?” asked Windu, crossing his arms.

Ares’ eyes darted to the screen where he saw Kenobi last. He was gone now. “Somewhere nearby.”

“Expect our approach, the slavers shall,” said Yoda. “Risk the lives of innocents, we cannot.”

“Don’t worry about it, general,” replied Ares.

“How can you be so sure?” asked Windu.

“Because it’s very difficult to expect anyone from the bottom of an endless chasm,” said Ares. “Just send a transport.” He ended the call, just as Kenobi burst into the room. The sudden movement made Ares ignite his lightsabre and point at the intruder. “Oh, it’s you.” He took the hilt of the Jedi’s weapon from its resting place on his belt and threw it to the bedraggled general.

“Where’s the warden?” Kenobi asked, looking around at the carnage. “What did you do?”

“It’s best for both of us that you don’t ask,” replied Ares, rubbing his eyes. He kept checking their colour in the reflection of the computer.

They wouldn’t return to their normal brown. He tried thinking of anything but the mass murder he had just committed. He thought of Raxus, of lush lakes and fresh forests, of peace times, of books and card games, of clones and brothers-in-arms, of the hedonistic pleasures he could enjoy once this mission was over and those that he couldn’t, of Ahsoka. Those things seemed to shine a bright light in his darkness.

“Are you… crying?” Kenobi mistook Ares’ actions for weeping.

“No! I just have something in my eye,” replied Ares in a stable, untroubled voice. “Give me a second.”

[][][]

It was Plo Koon’s ship that arrived to carry the colonists away from their enslavement. They liberated the entire labour camp with all it’s their survivors. In the cruiser’s main hanger, Ares watched the colonists hug clones and praise the Republic for their liberation. Some Togruta colonists thanked him and kissed his cheeks. The gratitude owed to him was not lacking.

A Zygerrian ship sailed into the hanger and some of the colonists drew back in fear of the craft of their enslavers. When the main door opened with their leader stepping out, some of them rushed to embrace him. Behind the governor, Skywalker and Ahsoka emerged. CL-Y rolled past them with incredible speed to be reunited with her master.

“Well, what do you know? We were just coming to rescue you,” said Skywalker, coming up to Ares.

“Thank you, but I had everything under control,” said Ares. He patted his droid affectionately on the head.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?” asked Skywalker.

“Getting patched up by the med-droid,” said Ares. “How did you two get out of Zygerria?”

“A story for another time,” said Skywalker, patting the boy on the shoulder and walking away to see his master.

“Your father paid Zygerria a visit,” said Ahsoka. She had a look of determination in her eyes: there was a hard truth that she needed to tell him. “He was furious with the Queen for enslaving Jedi, instead of killing us. She was enjoying having Master Skywalker as her servant and wasn’t willing to give him up to Dooku.”

Ares scoffed. “I bet she was.”

Ahsoka persisted. “However, he was angrier at Pallas who had allowed her personal feelings to influence her actions. Apparently, she should have shot you on the spot, not send you to a re-education centre or look for your friend, Pompeii. I could hear him punish your sister for her mistake with lightning in the next room.”

Ares was silent for some time as he processed this information. He wasn’t sure what he should have been feeling for that knowledge. “War makes monsters and slaves of us all,” he said, coldly. “She’ll survive.”

Governor Roshti walked up to the pair and placed his hands on Ares’ shoulders. “My boy, you have saved my people. Thank you!” The governor let his tears fall and he embraced the uncomfortable boy. Ahsoka gave him a warm smile to prompt him to accept the gratitude of the governor.

“Uh… thank you governor,” Ares awkwardly patted the old man’s shoulder. The governor’s smile only intensified his feelings of guilt. He left them shortly afterwards.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ahsoka.

There was a glint in the corner of Ares’ eye. A tear threatening to fall. He suddenly looked very broken. “So many died. I let so many people… so many of _your_ people die… to win that facility. I told the warden they were profit losses and dared him to kill more to show him how unafraid of him I was… but I was afraid. I was so terrified. Fourteen lives could have been saved and I didn’t save them. I might as well have sent them into that gorge myself. And yet all these colonists praise me as their saviour.” The tears welled in the boy’s broken face. “Kenobi bowed to the slavers to save the lives of others, but the thought of bowing was more hateful to me than murder. I hated him for his weakness and now I wish that I had done the same.”

Ahsoka’s face was sympathetic. She took his shoulders into her hands firmly and forced him to look her in the eye. “Hey, you did what you had to. Listen to me, you did what was in your power for them—”

“I was selfish!” Ares cried out, ignoring her words. “I embraced the dark side in there.”

“You made a gamble and a sacrifice,” said Ahsoka, wisely. She tightened her grip on him. “… and it paid off. Mourn those that died but remember all those that you saved. They’re grateful for your choices, Ares, and so am I, if my gratitude matters at all to you.” Her words silenced him and seeing him calm down gave her the permission to embrace him tightly. “It’s ok. Everything’s ok. Everything will be ok,” she whispered into his ear.

[][][]

Their adventures with the slavers were not over yet. There was still the promise Ares had made to Pompeii Denturri. Briefly, Plo Koon’s cruiser stopped its voyage in hyperspace and a Republic shuttle flew out of the main hanger to chart a course to the neutral world of Mandalore.

Pompeii sat in the backseat with his clawed hands in cuffs, spiteful and humiliated. Ahsoka had volunteered her company to Ares and, since she was the better pilot, flew their ship. Ares was in the co-pilot’s seat.

“You should have told me you had a thing for tail-heads, brother,” Pompeii spoke suddenly, breaking the awkwardness of this encounter. “My last birthday present for you would have been much more interesting than a speeder.”

Ares didn’t know which part of that statement made him angriest. All of it perhaps. From the endearment of ‘brother’ to the equation of slave-women to speeder bikes to being someone who was in a financial and moral position to acquire slaves as birthday presents in the first place. Whatever the particular reason, Ares responded with shooting up from his seat and crashing a fist into the Zygerrian’s jaw.

Pompeii toppled off the chair, groaning loudly. Ares had put a lot of force in that punch. The Zygerrian grinned. He found the weakness. “Don’t act like you’re above it now,” he said, smirkingly. “Togruta, my brother here is not the gentleman he presents himself to be. Not so deep down, he’s still the scummy Separatist he pretends he’s not. I know you, Ares.”

Ares’ mind instantly went to Ashla, the prostitute he had frequented on Coruscant. He tried to justify that he had paid her honestly for her services and that he had inquired about what would give her pleasure, but the fact of the matter had been that he went there for himself and his sexual desires of a woman he couldn’t have. Ashla had been a substitute, an object. Was that so bad? Wasn’t that how she made her living? He didn’t know. That was too complex perhaps.

“Don’t call him your ‘brother’,” said Ahsoka, in a calm, patient way when Ares seemed lost in his guilty thoughts. Her eyes were firmly on her piloting task at hand. He was stunned by her loyalty.

“Interesting that you’re so protective of him, Togruta. Your people are slaves and his people are the slavers. He’s got you wrapped around his finger. Isn’t that right, brother—” Pompeii said, but instantly felt his throat become tighter.

“You’re bitter about your defeat, as you should be,” said Ares as Pompeii struggled in his grasp. “Because of our old friendship, I spared you from a Republic prison. I showed you mercy. Now, do me the basic courtesy of shutting up.” He let go of the Zygerrian, who didn’t say another word for the rest of the journey.

When they dropped him off, Ahsoka made sure it was the middle of nowhere. Ares pushed him out of the ship with a hard shove. Pompeii scowled at him. “Mark my words: you’ll regret betraying your real friends, if you don’t already,” said Pompeii, before leaving.

Ares sat back down in the co-pilot’s seat and looked at Ahsoka, guiltily. “I’m sorry about what he said.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Ahsoka, shrugging. “You’re not to blame for… him.”

“I’m sorry, nonetheless,” he said.

Ahsoka eyes were warm. “Thank you,” she said. “So… ‘tail-heads’, huh?” she asked, playfully. Hopefully, teasing him wound get his mind off the guilt.

He looked at her and smiled in a way that made her lekku and montrals flush a vibrant blue colour. “Who doesn’t like looking at pretty people?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to REVIEW and help out a humble writer.


	13. Jealous Warpaths Part 1

#  **Chapter 13 – Jealous Warpaths Part 1**

_Ahsoka jumped from one rocky crag to the next. The flora was pretty and lively, but she had to keep moving. She didn’t know what she was moving towards, but she knew that she had to keep going._

_“Ahsoka…” a recognisable voice whispered._

_She turned and saw Ares. He was emerging from the water, dripping, muscled and half naked. Everything about him was desirable. It was made to be desirable: a temptation… A luring promise._

_“Ares,” she said, barely a whisper. “What are you doing here?” She couldn’t lift her gaze from his glistening, muscled chest. She also knew that he was not real. He was just an illusion. The real Ares was somewhere else in the galaxy, on a battlefield, probably. She ignited both of her lightsabres and pointed them at the imposter. What was this trick?_

_He smiled in a way that made her belly flutter. The copper-gold hand used the force to easily zap the blades back into their hilts. “You’ll have no need for those,” he said. Somehow, his muscled arms wrapped around her petite frame and pulled her closer to himself so that the droplets of water seeped through her clothes and glued them together, not that they needed any help. Her arms had nowhere to go but on his shoulders. Before she knew it, he started to kiss her, passionately, sinfully. Kiss her dangerously and without shame. Kiss her in a way that friends didn’t kiss. She felt his rough tongue and, unexpectedly, delighted in its taste._

_Despite her half-hearted effort to resist, she found herself fervently kissing him back. His smile tasted of danger and smoke. Kissing him was just like she had always imagined it to be, which, she suddenly realised, she had imagined quite a bit. Being this close to him, she could bathe in his smoky scent. Her fingers ran through his soft platinum locks and their teeth clinked together. It was addictive. She had never felt this much ecstasy. She couldn’t remember wanting anything more than this moment._

_She felt her back touch something and realised that he had pushed her against a tree. The pressure of their bodies together felt good. She thought they couldn’t physically be any closer. He parted from her lips and began to kiss her neck. He even dared to kiss her lekku a few times, which was a bold idea, but not unwelcome. She made sounds that she had never heard herself make and arched her back in his hands. There was a wild burn in her blood._

_“You’re enjoying this,” he stated, grinning at her. His breath tickled her neck. He had her pressed against the tree with his weight and she was without her weapons by her side. Despite all logic, she would be lying if she said that she didn’t enjoy this._

_“Yes,” she said, firmly. It felt so good. Besides, he was so strong and warm that it felt like too much effort to try to get out of his embrace. She wanted to stay here. With him. Doing this._

_“Then be mine and I’ll be yours,” he whispered and kissed her. Their hot mouths moulded together. “Stay here. Forever,” and then he kissed her again, “The Code will forbid this if you go back.” He kissed her neck in delightful pain and made her moan loudly. “Stay here. You’ll enjoy it. You’ll be free,” he promised, and she believed him._

_It was then that the crash of an explosion in the distance blew and she felt a disturbance in the force. She knew she was erring. This wasn’t real no matter how enjoyable it was. There was something out there that needed her help. She pushed him off and he fell backwards, lifting himself up on his elbows, looking up at her with eyes that made her heart melt. “You’re not real,” she said, more to herself than to him. “And I have to go,” she added, looking at the distance which the disturbance came from._

_“What if I was?” he asked._

_“But you’re not,” she countered._

_He smirked and looked to the sky. “Somewhere out there my ‘real’ counterpart walks and breathes and wants to do all of this. When you meet him again, will you—"_

_“I made a vow,” she interrupted him. Her guilt began to flood in. She had given into temptation. A temptation that good Jedi were not supposed to even crave, let alone give into. “I’m a Jedi. I will not let my attachments hinder me from doing the right thing!”_

_There was a strange look in his eye, as if he was angry. Angry at her. “Your thoughts will betray you. Your feelings and your memory will be too big of a burden to bear,” he said. He outstretched his hand and she could feel him using the dark side of the Force. He was rifling through her mind like a file cabinet. Her thoughts and feelings were laid bare for him, like naked flesh. Thoughts of desires and wants and the dangerous little lies she told herself to push him away were shamefully exposed. “You are mine,” he said and she knew that he was seeing all of it._

_She didn’t know how she was able to do it or where she had learnt it, but with a push of her own power, she was able to resist his telepathic pull. He staggered back, as if wounded from her push. She grinned, proudly. “Is that the best you’ve got?” she challenged, with a smirk._

_“No!” he screamed, angrily. “I won’t let the Jedi take you away! I won’t let them suck you down with them into their abyss! Their doom is at hand!” He tried again and again, but he couldn’t enter her mind or read her feelings like he once could. She had learnt to resist him._

_“You should trust me a little more than to let myself get sucked into any abyss,” she said._

Ahsoka woke up, startled and with cold beads of sweat. She was in her quarters on a Republic cruiser coming back to Coruscant. “Weird dream,” she whispered to herself. She’d had prophetic visions in her sleep, but this didn’t feel like one of them. It was clearer, almost physical, more tangible than dreams. She couldn’t explain it.

Her commlink buzzed. “Commander Tano, we are beginning out descent on Coruscant,” came Admiral Yularen’s voice.

“Thank you, Admiral,” Ahsoka answered. Stretching, she began her trek to the bridge of the ship and passed her master’s quarters on the way. She had reasoned that he’d already be out. He was always anxious to come back to Coruscant. But then her montrals tingled and she heard a woman’s voice inside as she passed the door.

 _Padme’s voice_ , Ashoka instantly knew.

“I’ll see you at home, Ani,” Padme said. It wasn’t even the words that were used, so much as their loving tenderness, that made Ahsoka’s head pound and her legs sprint.

Needless to say, Ahsoka had much to think about.

[][][]

The curtain of the Jedi Temple’s infirmary ripped open and Kenobi looked up to see his captain standing on the other side, drenched in ocean water and still in his SCUBA clone armour.

“Why wasn’t I informed?!” Ares said. The young man in the white and yellow armour was furious.

Kenobi sighed and rubbed his eyes. He sat up on his hospital bed to look Ares straight in the eyes. “Ares…”

“I had a right to know!” Ares scowled. “Why the sudden secrets, general!?”

“Ares, this was a covert operation that required secrecy and subtlety. If you remained on Coruscant, you would be watched. The council feared your reaction to my death. They feared that you would seek vengeance against my ‘killer’ and jeopardise my mission,” explained Kenobi. “So, we decided to send you away to one of our battlefields. Glee Anslem seemed like the perfect candidate and required reinforcements. General Fisto tells me you’re a natural-born aqua-soldier—”

“Don’t change the subject with flattery!” Ares hissed at the general, his rage bubbling in his stomach the longer he listened to the Jedi speak. “Why was this the way you chose to protect the Chancellor?! Why couldn’t you use this technology to assassinate my father instead?! Why can’t you shapeshift and end this wretched war faster!?”

“Ares…” Kenobi said, softly.

“No! I don’t want to hear about what the right way to conduct war is or any of your other Jedi weaknesses! And I don’t want to hear any more about your distrust of me! I’ve given up too much for this damned Order and I’ve been repaid in nought!” Ares screamed at him. His anger was so unbridled and uncontrollable that it spread throughout his body like a wildfire. “It was bold of you to assume I loved you enough to seek vengeance for you!”

Those words had so much venom in them that they made Kenobi stagger. “Ares… I know you don’t mean that.” His voice broke when it spoke.

Passion was rushing through his blood. He was spilling words that were more hurtful than true, but he kept going. “I used to look at you as if you were someone who would guide me, mentor me, but this whole endeavour has been pointless. Joining this side has not brought me any closer to my father’s death. The Jedi are weak, and I was a fool to sell myself to the order… like a slave,” Ares said, bitterly.

Obi-Wan swallowed his hurt. “Ares, I know you are frustrated with the Jedi and the Republic, but you must know that this war will not go on forever and your father will be brought to justice. You have grown much since you’ve come to us. You’ve become a better man than I could have ever hoped for and a powerful warrior. Be patient and vigilant.”

Kenobi stood up from his hospital bed, groaning from recent wounds. Ares allowed a glimpse at the Jedi’s pain and a droplet of sympathy to trickle in. The general put a hand on Ares’ shoulder for his own support. “What happened to you?” asked Ares, neutrally.

“When I needed you most, you were not there because of my own orders. A Sith Lord from my past has returned from the grave. Had we been together, we might have overpowered him,” said Kenobi.

Strangely, Kenobi’s words seemed to placate the young captain’s fury. “Yes well. That’s your own fault.” He paused. “I sensed a disturbance in the force. Was that who you faced?”

“Yes. Whilst you were finishing your campaign on Glee Anslem, I faced Darth Maul and his brother, Savage Opress. I escaped within an inch of my life,” said Kenobi. “I should have never alienated you, my friend.”

“Yes well… glad you learnt your lesson,” said Ares. He was surprised at how able Kenobi was at diffusing the youth’s anger. Did the old man really know him that well?

“Go to your chambers. Rest. Freshen up. Come to the High Tower after dawn. We have a call from someone who you might like to see,” said Kenobi. “Our next mission briefing is something you’re going to enjoy. I promise.”

[][][]

Ares had expected his walk to his quarters to be uneventful, but then he saw Ahsoka. She was coming down a corridor. When she saw him, her lekku and montrals stripes blushed a deep shade of blue, a sight that gave him much satisfaction. She looked around to see if she could escape anywhere, which he found to be odd, but he spoke loudly and trapped her.

“Greetings, trouble,” he practically shouted from the other side of the corridor, so that she couldn’t get away. “Long time no see, commander,” he said with a smile, his previous frustration dying at the sight of her. His belly started fluttering immediately in a familiar dance, but once he came close to her presence, he felt a change in the Force. Something was different.

“You’re alive… goodie,” she said, an awkward tension in her voice.

“Oh, don’t be like that. We all know that you’d be the one crying the most at my funeral,” he said with a smirk.

“Did you just get out of the ocean?” she said, trying to divert the conversation away from her and her feelings. She pointed to the wet mop of platinum hair.

“Yeah. Glee Anselm has been won for the Republic,” he said. “What happened to you? You’re… different. G-good different, not bad different,” he quickly corrected himself. “You can never be a bad different.” If it was possible, she looked even more embarrassed. _This was odd_ , he thought. She was usually much more confident than this. Usually, she regarded his flirtations with some slight annoyance or amusement, but now there was shame on her face. Her reaction made him crook his eyebrows with confusion. “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” she said, too loudly. He could sense that she was hiding something. He tried to press into her emotion to discover what troubled her, but her shields were up. “I’ll see you at the council meeting. After dusk?” she asked as she was running off.

“Yeah,” he said, quietly, still confused by her.

[][][]

Showered, changed, refreshed and now well-rested, Ares was finally in a fit state of mind to attend the circus that was the Jedi Council. However, their business proved to be anything but a joke. Somehow, two of the Confederacy’s most patriotic boys found themselves standing face to hologram.

“Lux? What… wha- what’s going on?” Ares said, at a loss of words.

The other boy was stumped by the sight of his childhood friend too. “I… I come seeking the Republic’s help… for Onderon.” _An eerie coincidence_ , thought Ares.

He and his comrade, Saw Gerrera, proceeded to tell the Council about their struggle on their homeworld, about how their king was a puppet of the Separatists and was enslaving their planet with the droid army. It was an unfamiliar tune for Ares to hear from Bonterri.

“We await your answer,” Bonterri said, giving a meaningful look to his old friend and, much to Ares’ surprise, to Ahsoka as well.

“There are pockets of rebels on many of these planets that just need guidance. With training and resources, they could attack soft targets while the Republic pushes them on the battlefield,” announced Skywalker.

“That sounds like terrorism, Anakin,” said Kenobi.

“Well I think of it as an insurgency to help realign these planets with the Republic,” said Skywalker.

“We can divide the Separatist forces and engage them on two fronts,” said Windu.

“A means to an end, fear need not be,” said Yoda. “Stop those who spread terror the Jedi must.” Ares mentally rolled his eyes at that. _What utter bullshit,_ Ares thought angrily.

“Indeed, what you’re suggesting could open dangerous possibilities. We must not train terrorists,” said Kenobi.

“Rebels,” Skywalker corrected.

“War is terrorism, general,” Ares spoke up for the first time. His frustration could not be hid any longer. Beside him, he felt a light shove from Ahsoka with the force – a subtle prompt to keep his mouth shut before he got into trouble. “The Separatists do the same to the Republic every day,” Ares persisted. Some of the older Jedi Masters glared at him for the criticism.

“How we conduct war is what distinguishes us from others. Funding rebels to overthrow a legitimate government puts innocent lives at risk!” Kenobi stated, as firm in his ideologies as ever. Ares had the urge to scrape out his eyes with his own fingers; he was so annoyed by Kenobi’s morals.

“We can minimize collateral damage by using arms that mainly affect droids,” said Anakin.

“The least we can do is help them defend themselves. Test the tactic while we’re at it,” said Windu.

“Heh, this could be a great new weapon to us,” said Skywalker.

“Hm, train and observe, send advisors we will,” said Yoda.

“I’ll assemble a team,” said Skywalker with enthusiasm. It seemed that he was restless for some action. Ares knew the feeling. “Snips, you’re already on it. Obi-Wan, since you’re loaning your captain, I’m gonna be taking him for a bit too.”

“I’m going with you,” said Kenobi, standing up.

“What? You don’t trust me?” defended Skywalker.

“Too much. That’s what worries me,” said Kenobi.

[][][]

They came under the cover of night. A stealth ship ejected five figures that were quickly found by the Onderon rebels. Steela, who seemed to be their leader, guided them to their secret base. They also met Saw Gerrera, the hot shot who gave the call of distress with Lux. Ares noticed that Steela and Saw shared the eyes and manners of siblings. Introductions were made and the Jedi observed the rough edges of the secret rebel base.

Ares’ eyes searched the roughness for his old friend. The aristocrat who he had grown up with now looked like a toughened soldier with the burden of tragedy on his shoulders. Seeing Ares, Bonterri starred at him as if he was a ghost. “…Ares?”

“Hello, old friend,” said Ares, pulling the senator’s son into an embrace. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry… about everything,” he said into his friend’s ear. There was so much that he felt sorry for.

Bonterri nodded. There was no need to say more. “We’ll have to catch-up later,” said Lux, then paused. “What happened to your hair?”

“What?” asked Ares, confused. He reached up to touch the platinum locks. “Oh right. Guess we haven’t seen each other in a… very long time. Uh… you could say I’ve seen a lot of shockers. The Jedi gave me a headful of grey hair on my first day.”

But Lux didn’t laugh and that twisted something unpleasant in Ares’ gut. “We should get started,” Lux said.

Kenobi and Skywalker gave them a debrief of their purpose here. Rex asked for volunteers to transport training equipment from their landing point.

“Lux!” Ahsoka called out, gaining the Bonterri boy’s attention.

Ares crooked an eyebrow at her familiarity with him and used the force to listen in from his inconspicuous position by Kenobi’s side. Skywalker had engaged the old general into some argument or other.

“It’s good to see you again,” said Ahsoka.

“It’s good to see you too, Ahsoka,” Lux said with a warm smile.

She pushed him about joining the Republic, a discussion that Ares noticed had been started before this meeting. Ares watched as his old friend was flanked at both sides by Ahsoka and Steela. The Onderonian girl was beginning to remind Ares of someone he knew very well the longer she stayed by Lux’s side.

“Even if we do take back Onderon, it won’t change how I feel. I’m not fighting for the Republic,” said Lux. _Ah, now there’s the old patriot that I know,_ thought Ares.

“Well, what matters now is that we need each other’s help… just like we did on Karlac,” said Ahsoka. _Karlac? Wait, what? What happened on Karlac?_ Ares thought with panic, tuning in closer. It seemed was having similar questions.

“Ahsoka is the reason I’m here, Steela, and not with Death Watch,” said Lux, sternly. _The Mandalore terrorists? Are you kriffing kidding me?_

“What he means is—” Ahsoka began, unsurely.

“She saved me from making a huge mistake,” said Lux and walked off, ending the conversation.

Ares tuned out. “Excuse me, generals,” he told Skywalker and Kenobi and made his way to Ahsoka. “What happened on Karlac?” he asked, suspicious.

She frowned at him with crossed arms. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Hey, I’m always there to watch the show if Bonterri has lady troubles,” said Ares. “So, cough up. Why didn’t you tell me you met my friend on Karlac?” Ares had expected there to be an innocent explanation, but Ahsoka suddenly blushed deeply and took on a guilty look, which scared him more than it should have.

“There’s nothing to tell. A few weeks ago, I was body-guarding Senator Amidala on Mandalore for the peace talks with the Separatists. Lux interrupted them and publicly accused Could Dooku and Pallas of murdering his mother. Your father’s soldiers were going to kill him, so I rescued him. Don’t ask me how, but we ended up on Karlac. He tried to give Death Watch your father’s location to murder him. Through some scrape of luck, we escaped. I went back home, and he didn’t want to go to the Republic,” said Ahsoka, with every word becoming more and more guilty. _She certainly painted herself as a hero in her own story_ , thought Ares. 

“Oh yeah. Nothing to tell. No ‘hey, Ares, your friend just tried joining some terrorists’ or ‘hey, he’s going on a suicide mission to kill your war-mongering relatives’. Absolutely doesn’t concern me in the slightest,” said Ares. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“You were gone on Glee Anslem and I was dispatched with Master Skywalker for our next mission. I didn’t have time to tell you this and, more to the point, it would have upset you to know that your friend is out there wandering aimlessly in search of vengeance against your family,” said Ahsoka.

“Uh huh, well if that’s the real story, then why are you blushing?” accused Ares. “You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” said Ahsoka, taking on a deeper shade of blue. “Even if I was, it’s none of your business anyway.” She walked away from him, shoulder slamming him out of her way. Her defensiveness only gave credibility to Ares’ pangs of jealousy. Something was rotten in that story.

[][][]

Training began for the rebels. Rex, Ahsoka, Ares and Skywalker all ran them through with drills and tactics of how to destroy the battle droids and tanks effectively with droid poppers and sensitive regions.

“Keep your eyes on the quick learners,” said Obi-Wan to both Skywalker and Ares. “In this fight, time is not on our side.”

Lux, it seemed, was not one such quick learner. Ever the politicians and scholar, he proved to be as bad of a soldier as Ares and Pompeii had always made fun of him for. A memory flashed

_They were about 13 years old. Ever raucous boys, Ares and Pompeii had been arm-wrestling in the Bonterri backyard on the grass. . Lux, as ever, was providing both spectatorship for his friends and a pillow rest for Pallas’s head with his thigh. Pallas was trying to read a book_

_“Can you two morons be stupid in silence?” Pallas hissed at them._

_“If you… don’t like it… you can go… literally anywhere else, sis!” Ares croaked out in pain._

_“I was. I came to the Bonterri’s for exactly that,” she replied._

_“Well, we… have to… make sure… you two lovebirds don’t get too… cosy,” said Pompeii, struggling._

_Pallas looked up at Bonterri’s face. They were both sporting matching amused expression. “It’s almost like they’re jealous,” said Pallas, smirking._

_“Attention whores,” replied Bonterri, looking down at her and smiling back._

_“Attention whoring peacocks,” corrected Pallas, making Bonterri laugh and the two other boys pout or scowl._

_Pompeii slammed his fist in and won their contest. “Ha! I win! I am the undefeated champion! You are a loser!” The Zygerrian boy did a victory dance, whilst Ares howled mournful for both his arm and his pride._

_“Curse you and your freakish strength, Pompeii,” Ares bemoaned. It was a time when his left hand was still flesh and could soothe the hurts of his right._

_“Pallas!” a distant voice earned their attention. Wodin had arrived and stood at the edge of the lawn with his hands behind his back. His grey-fatherly face smiled warmly. He was wearing the coat that he would die in and Pallas would later inherit._

_“Admiral?” Pallas said with some surprise. “What are you doing here?” She abandoned her book and place by Bonterri and took off to see the old Admiral._

_“What is he doing here?” asked Pompeii to Ares._

_“He must be back from his mission. He was supposed to be negotiating the Geonosians into the Alliance,” said Ares. His eyes fell onto the Bonterri boy, who looked dejectedly at the spot that Pallas had abandoned. The young aristocrat reached out and picked up the book that she had left behind. “You okay there, lovebird?”_

_“Stop calling me that!” Lux protested, angrily._

_“Why don’t you go up there and fight for your princess, lovebird?” Pompeii teased._

_“Shut up,” Lux said._

_“Pompeii stop, stop,” Ares said, half-seriousness and half-laughing._

_“Do you think she’ll through with it? The marriage?” asked Lux, watching Pallas and the Admiral speak to one another intently. “He’s so… old.”_

_“My father means for the match to go ahead. He says political alliances are important right now. Needs to keep his right-hand man loyal,” said Ares, shrugging his shoulders. “Wouldn’t be the first-time old men married girls too young for them. Certainly in my family.”_

_“Come on, Bonterri. Let’s work on your form,” Pompeii said and picked up the wily, bookish boy with what appeared to be one hand. “They don’t teach you this at the Academy,” he said, before striking his friend with a shoulder punch that was hard enough to make him stumble back, but light enough to not hurt too badly. “Come on, pretend I’m the good Admiral.”_

_“Come off it, Pompeii. Don’t feel down, Lux. The Confederacy needs good politicians. You can peacock with your words, not fists,” said Ares. He seemed to have missed the bitter look on Lux’s face._

Ares brought himself back to the present moment. The realm of his childhood was a dangerous place to wander. Friends had become enemies and foes had become allies. Even Lux seemed to avoid Ares at any opportunity he could, preferring the company of Steela, who enjoyed caring for him.

The captain had caught her numerous times wiping dirt and grime off his face in an icky, motherly sort of way. The captain felt his stomach roll, but he promised himself not to say a word. _Better have affection for your allies, than the enemy,_ he thought to himself. Nonetheless, the young captain shuddered and preferred to look away from the sight, but he noticed that Ahsoka didn’t. She watched Lux, constantly. Often, her eyes would become glassy and he could tell that her mind was elsewhere. For some reason, Ares was no longer able to sense Ahsoka’s emotions, which in itself was infuriating.

She paid close attention to Steela’s frustrations and failures in the training. She watched Lux help the girl with the droid poppers, which he preferred to do with a… hands-on demonstration. She made the droid heads hover in the air to make it difficult for Steela to shoot them. Because he thought she was jealous, Ares felt his own feelings start to build up.

It was unfortunate for Ares that, in jealous observations and his sudden separation from his preferred Force ability, he failed to notice the several hundred times that Ahsoka glanced at him with clouded, impure thoughts.

“Wait, what is that?” Steela said, looking through her scope.

“Droids!” Saw exclaimed. Their perimeter had been breached by a battalion of droids. Lightsabres were ignited and cover was taken.

“Ready disruptors!” Saw ordered the other rebels. They threw the explosives at the droid’s flanks and blew them up.

“Why—” Ares deflected a blast, “did we—” he deflected another, “bring droid poppers—” he deflected another, “if they have—” and another blast was blocked, “their own!”

“You’re telling me you need explosives to dismantle some droids? Really?” asked Ahsoka from his side, also deflecting blaster fire from the rebels. Ares scowled at her, lifted his hand and force-crushed the droids around their area. She grinned at him, as if she had just proven her point.

A tank rolled in and used its cannon to blast the rebel’s buildings. A sniper shot from Steela freed all the animals from their pens and the creatures charged at the droids, crushing them under their feet.

“Hey, Bonterri! Ready to try again?” Saw suggested, passing a droid popper to Lux.

“What are you doing?!” Ahsoka yelled at them both as they ran for the tank.

“What you taught us,” Lux replied.

“Well, about time,” Ares said.

“They’re going to get themselves killed,” said Ahsoka, before following them to assist them.

“Ahsoka, wait! You can’t fight for them! You can only defend them!” Ares shouted out from the safety of the defences, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Saw took out the bottom pilot and Lux threw his popper into the top hatch but forgot to close it. Ahsoka force-shut it for him. The tank blew up behind them.

“Take confidence from this victory,” said Kenobi, after their enemies had been defeated. “But rest assured that more droids will be coming, now that they know your position.”

“We should get out of here,” said Ares. “We don’t know if that patrol called for reinforcements when they found us.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re ready,” said Skywalker. “We are going to take the fight to the droids. You don’t have to hide in the jungle anymore.”

“Droids were a bit dim. More so than I imagined,” said Saw.

“They make up for it in numbers,” said Ahsoka. “They’re designed to overwhelm.”

“But they’re not designed to deal with our approach,” said Skywalker.

“We hit them where they least expect it and before they realize that anything happened…” Lux said.

“… We fade in with the rest of the population,” finished Steela. Ares wanted to roll his eyes. She was finishing his sentences now?

“Exactly,” said Skywalker.

“We need a plan to get inside the city,” said Ahsoka.

“I… think I have an idea,” said Lux, smiling.

Lux’s idea turned out to be pretty on-brand: disguising as hunters who had collected traps in the bush.

“Seriously?” Ares had to ask.

“What?” Lux defended. “Seems pretty reasonable. Worked out last time, didn’t it?” Ares gave Lux a sceptical look.

About a year before the Clone Wars broke out, Lux’s father had taken the four friends on a hunting trip into Onderon’s jungle. They had gotten lost because the senior Bonterri had insisted that to be one with nature, they had to abandon technology. Bad weather had scared away all their would-be food and their company returned muddy, beleaguered, and desperate for rest from an unforgiving wilderness. The droids barely recognised the distinguished politician. Mina had to come and collect them from the gates of Iziz, very amused by their bad luck.

Ares took a seat beside Skywalker, who drove their carriage. Ahsoka had already taken residence on Lux’s and Steela’s carriage. She seemed eager to avoid him. “Help me if I murder someone here,” Ares mumbled to the Knight.

Skywalker chuckled. “I know where to bury the bodies if necessary,” he said. “Why? What’s wrong? I thought you’d be pleased come to Onderon,” said Skywalker. “Are you… losing focus?”

“I never have focus,” Ares huffed in frustration and pulled the hood of his Jedi disguise robe down over his face. “My head hurts. Let me take a nap.”

Skywalker said no more, until they reached the gates of Iziz. He shook the captain beside him awake and they waited for Lux to tell their cover-up story to the droids at the front.

“Let them through,” the droid commander finally said, and they infiltrated the city.

“Not a bad start, but now the real work begins,” said Skywalker.

Kenobi came up on his beast. “You must find recruits and choose your targets wisely.”

“They’ll be looking for us,” said Steela, confidently.

“Go for the plucky, reckless ones or those roughened up by droids. They make for better soldiers,” said Ares.

“We should split up,” said Lux.

“Regroup after nightfall. I’ll alert our brothers,” said Saw.

“We’ll make sure you have the supplies that you need,” said Skywalker.

“Rex and I will take care of that,” said Ahsoka.

Lux looked at her. “Good luck,” he said.

“You too,” said Ahsoka and Steela simultaneously. Ares rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and steamed with envy inside the depths of his Jedi cloak, ignoring any further conversation.

[][][]

There were six rebel strikes in the rotation. The Jedi and Ares helped and guided the rebels as best as they could, without engaging in the war or lighting any blades. Their day of work culminated in a secret meeting in a discreet building of the seedy area of the city that had been lent to them by one of their new allies.

Kenobi, Skywalker, Ahsoka and Ares filed in and sat on one side of the couch. Lux, Saw, Steela on the other and their rebel allies, both old and new, stood around them.

“Your success will not go unnoticed,” said Skywalker and the people cheered.

“I agree, but we need to be mindful of public perception,” said Kenobi. “What was your observation, padawan?”

“The people were fearful, master,” replied Ahsoka.

“Indeed. Judging from the reactions I saw today, I’m afraid that they will mistake your intentions,” said Kenobi.

“We need to do more damage,” said Saw. “A few dozen broken droids will do little to free Onderon.”

“Oh, you’ve done enough damage for now. It’s not the droids that trouble them,” said Ares.

“The people need to believe that we can succeed. Without their support, our efforts are meaningless,” said Steela.

“If they’re afraid, they won’t support us,” said Lux. “We need to assure them of our intentions.”

“I don’t understand. Why are they afraid?” asked Saw.

“They’re afraid we’re not strong enough to win,” said Steela. “We need to earn their trust.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to earn their trust,” said Skywalker. “All of you are going to be very busy. Today was only a taste. You’ll get your chance.”

“In the meantime, make the most of your victories,” said Obi-Wan. “Welcome and learn from them.”

Lux’s mind was already wired on how to win. “Perhaps if we did something big. Give a show of strength. They will overcome their fear and join us.”

“Do you have something in mind?” asked Ahsoka.

Lux grinned. “I know the perfect target.”

The Republicans took their own meeting. “Looks like they’re ready to give the 501st some competition,” said Skywalker.

“Let’s not get carried away, general,” defended Rex. “Though, these rebels have impressed me.”

“We will share the developments with the Jedi Council. Ahsoka and Ares will remain here as advisors. Monitor them and report back on their progress,” said Kenobi.

The hand of Ahsoka’s master found its way onto her shoulder. “Are you up for it, Snips?” asked Skywalker, cautious of her lack of focus recently. “Or would you like to return to Coruscant?” Now there was a question that Ares was eager to hear the answer to.

She took a long pause to think about it. Her blue eyes flittered to the captain who, in that moment, was distracted by looking suspiciously at Skywalker, probably trying to puzzle out the Knight’s meanings. “No, master. I want to stay,” she said, firmly.

“We shall continue to provide supplies and credits, but they must learn to operate on their own,” said Kenobi. “Their survival depends upon it.”

“Remember your purpose, both of you,” said Skywalker warningly, giving them a meaningful look.

“So long as the captain remembers that I’m his commander, we’ll have no problem,” said Ahsoka.

“Trust me, I’ve never forgotten that fact,” said Ares. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a good boy.”

“His bedtime is 8.30,” Kenobi murmured to Ahsoka, as he walked away from them. It made her chuckle.

“Thank you, Obi-Mom,” said Ares, scowling at Obi-Wan’s back. Then he thought about it. “Force, I wish there was a bedtime. I don’t remember the last full night of sleep I got. Do you?”

“That’s the funny part,” replied Ahsoka.

[][][]

The five of them surveyed the power generators, Lux’s ‘perfect target’. They got a map from a battle droid’s head that Saw decapitated and made their plans for an ambush.

A speeder with explosives was packed in the centre of town.

“You cover the boys. I’ll stay with Steela,” Ahsoka said to Ares. He nodded without question and watched her go with the sniper-woman. Ares took his father’s lightsabre in hand as Saw and Lux took up their positions. Ares deflected blaster fire from them, and force crushed some of the droids as the rebels shot at their targets. The reinforcements they were hoping for were not the ones they expected. Droideka rollers tumbled in and started firing at them.

Ahsoka and Ares stood side by side, deflecting blaster fire. Saw, Lux and Steela took care of the droidekas. Ares and Ahsoka joined them with Ahsoka bringing Steela’s sniper with them.

A tank pulled around the corner.. “There’s our tank!” shouted Steela.

They defeated the last of the super-battle droids and Saw and Lux took over the tank. Saw climbed into the cockpit and, with a little help from Steela, managed to get the tank operational again. Steela and Ahsoka went off to draw the fire of the droids. Ares covered Lux from the side of the tank.

“Commandos,” Ares muttered as they faced a squadron of the commando droids charging at them. “What are you waiting for, Saw?”

“The gun is recharging!” Saw shouted.

“Hit the head. They can’t function without heads,” Ares said.

“I know that,” Lux grumbled as he aimed his fire. Ares stabbed one commando that jumped onto the tank, force gripped the one climbing on-top of Saw and javelined his lightsabre at the third running for them, thus stabbing it through the chest-plate. “You’re peacocking,” stated Lux, disposing of the last droid.

“Shoot straight and I wouldn’t feel the need to peacock!” Ares barked, just as Saw blasted the power station and rendered the entire city without electricity. The blazing powerhouse must have illuminated the whole city. It was as if a new dawn had erupted upon Onderon.

They rendezvoused at their secret rooms and celebrated their victory. Ares connected their holograms with Coruscant and was able to get Skywalker and Obi-Wan to witness the celebration. Drinks were poured and celebrations made.

“We must celebrate!” announced Steela and her brother immediately took his cue to pick her up and spin her in the air. “Come here you, handsome senator,” she said, before taking Lux into her embrace.

Everyone was rejoicing, except Ares. He kept watching Ahsoka out of her corner of his eyes, annoyed that he could no longer sense her emotions. She whispered discreet words to her master from the other side of the hologram. Ares couldn’t hear and he was almost certain that she was blocking his force-eavesdropping. He gave up on the effort of listening to what he ought not have and took his attention back to Rex and Kenobi.

“Snips, are you losing focus?” asked Skywalker quietly, leaning his hologram projection closer to his padawan.

“What gave you that idea, master?” replied Ahsoka, uncharacteristically cold.

“Ahsoka, I do have eyes,” said Skywalker.

There was a long, thoughtful pause from the padawan. Her blue eyes cast down to the ground as she pondered whether or not her next question was wise to ask. If what she thought she heard in his quarters earlier proved her theory about her master and the senator, then she had nothing to fear. It was the step, the budding curiosity, that was the difficult part. “…how do _you_ keep focus, master?” she asked.

Skywalker thought deeply about his next words. “Always put purpose before feelings, Snips,” he finally said. “There’s a time for feelings, but not when a greater purpose is at hand.”

“Thank you, master,” said Ahsoka, nodding. “For your experienced wisdom.” Anakin blinked, confused, before Obi-Wan’s words broke their conversation.

“This latest development will get Count Dooku’s attention. He will respond harshly,” said Kenobi. “They will stop at nothing to find you. You must adapt and continue to confront them in order to liberate Onderon.”

“Now, you must rally the people. You will need their support,” said Skywalker. “Your ability to influence them will also determine your capacity to represent them not only the battlefield but also off it. Against your enemies, even amongst your own ranks. Your commitment will inspire others. Your conviction will lead you to victory.”

“After tonight’s efforts, the people will follow. You’ll need a leader for them to rally behind,” said Kenobi. There was a clear leader amongst their ranks, and it was not Saw. Steela had the gift of charisma, speech, and vision of their future. Saw took the hit of his sister being chosen over him harshly.

“Let him go. He just needs to blow off some steam. He’ll be back,” said Lux, taking her hand.

She removed it. “I can’t.”

“Why?” asked Ahsoka.

“He’s my brother,” she said. “I can’t… I can’t do this without him.”

[][][]

King Rash of Onderon was complaining. The recent attacks had been… unsettling.

“It seems that the rebels are far more organised than they were in the past. The attack against the power generators proves that. Perhaps it’s time you sent me better reinforcements than the droids I have,” demanded King Rash.

“I will grant you this request,” said Dooku, his voice regal and powerful, unlike the King’s. “I will not only send you better reinforcements, but a better general.” Into the hologram stepped Pallas. “This is Pallas, my daughter. I assure you she will succeed where you have failed.” Their meeting ended without further discussion.

“So… I am to fight on Onderon,” said Pallas, her gaze on the floor. “I will do as you command,” she gave the old man her salute and made her move to leave the chamber.

“Pallas… remember what happened last time you allowed compassion to influence your choices,” said Dooku, before the room rumbled with a soft thunder. The girl clasped her ears and remembered the terrible pain. “The Bonterri’s home planet will no doubt be a sore point. Your feelings for the Bonterris cannot stand in the way of your purpose.”

“Don’t worry, father. I don’t have such weaknesses,” she vowed.

[][][]

The next day was dedicated to the rebel’s efforts of informing the people. Ares, Ahsoka and Lux inconspicuously spread holotransmitters around the city that were all timed to go off simultaneously and broadcast their new leader’s message for Onderon. The three of them reunited in the city market square with their disguises and saw the signal beeping on their commlinks. It was time. They activated them.

Around the city the image of Steela with her sniper blaster popped up against her shoulder stood tall and confident. She began to speak her message. “People of Onderon, the time has come to take back our freedom. We have all been deceived. King Rash is a traitor who sold Onderon to the Separatists for the crown, but Onderon is ours. We need your strength to claim our planet and restore our sovereignty under our true king: King Dendup.”

The words were heard by nearly every person in the city. In particularly, they fell upon the ears of a young woman called Jeopard, who worked at the palace as a servant and had been out that morning to buy the fruits that the King loved so much. She was moved and sought out the rebels immediately.

[][][]

“Hm, most moving,” said Pallas, after being presented the recording by the King. “Quite clever on their part to make this into a political campaign.”

Pallas was a full-sized hologram being transmitted from the bridge of her newly commissioned Providence-class destroyer flagship, _The War God._ It was currently holding down a blockade on Cato Neimodia as a favour to Viceroy Nute Gunray, who was negotiating with the banks. There was no fighting currently, but she was also simultaneously juggling command of two other battlefields: one against General Plo Koon and another against General Eeth Koth. She had sent a tactical droid to each battle to be her eyes and ears of the proceedings. The young woman was stretched thin.

The present meeting consisted of King Rash, his general Tandem, the tactical droids emblazoned with Pallas’s insignia and several of the King’s royal advisors and servants, amongst whom was Jeopard who served him his beloved fruits.

“Don’t you think these rebels are a threat to Onderon?” asked the King.

“Oh yes. Your monarchy is being called into question. No monarchy lives long if your critics can so openly and brazenly question you. Worry not, Your Majesty. They’ll be eliminated soon,” said Pallas.

“How much longer before they plunge us into chaos?” asked the King. His insipid whining, arrogance, and self-importance were beginning to annoy the young general and she had only spent a few hours with him.

“It seems they’re targeting the droid army. If you allow the Onderon Royal Militia to assume control of security, the terrorists may stop and discuss terms,” said the Onderon general, General Tandem.

“While that may seem like a tactical move from your point of view, general, you seem to forget the core purpose for who these rebels are fighting for: Ramses Dendup. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the Royal Militia served under him for many years. You would put His Majesty’s opponent’s old army, which still no doubt harbours some loyalty for their undead king, in the streets with arms and expect them to defend the peace?” asked Pallas. Tandem made no comment. “Thought so.”

“I will not negotiate with terrorists,” spoke up the King. “They seek mayhem and anarchy. What do we know about them?”

Tandem beckoned his droid forward to share his findings of the rebel leader. The hologram image of Steela Gerrera “Their leader is Steela Gerrera. Her brother Saw is also part of the group as well as the fugitive, Lux Bonterri.” The droid’s hologram changed to show Lux Bonterri in mid combat with a battle-droid.

Pallas’ eyes darkened and the colour in her face paled. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?!” She demanded, scathingly.

“You just were,” stated the stout General.

Pallas took a deep breath to cool her anger. There was a sinister smile curving on her mouth and her nimble fingers danced over it as she thought about her options. “You’ve been the general of His Majesty’s forces this whole time, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” said Tandem.

“Then you will you agree that it is precisely because of your inability to control the rebels that the King has asked for my father’s help,” said Pallas. Tandem didn’t say anything. “And, as a general yourself, you understand that important pieces of information need to be given to the commander-in-chief,” said Pallas, her patronising tone hitting the general across the face like a slap.

“I do,” said Tandem, beginning to glower.

“Then kindly step aside and let me do my job. I am your commander-in-chief now. You report to me. Any scrap of information is to be filtered to me. Withhold anything from me again and you will regret it,” said Pallas with a snarl. 

“Enough,” said the King, getting impatient with the infighting between his advisors. “It’s clear that Dendup is behind this. We mustn’t allow his followers any momentum! Justice must come swiftly, without mercy!” The King demanded. “Send him in!”

An old, broken man was brought before the throne. His agonized words about the will of the people were as moving as Steela’s and the King’s laughter was cruel.

“Order your followers to stop the attacks!” The King demanded. When the old man didn’t submit, he was ordered back to his cell. The King seemed to delight in flaunting his new power and throne to his predecessor.

Pallas looked at the tyrant sitting on his throne and knew that the rebellion was not because of the old man’s whispers through the cell bars. She thought of Lux. He had always proclaimed how he detested tyranny and the corporate oligarchy that the Republic had become. A rebellion against King Rash seemed very on-brand for Lux.

“I have no time for this. Execute your predecessor immediately. Destroy the rallying cry of the rebellion and make their purpose a pointless one. There is nothing more despairing than realizing that the cause one fights for is a lost one,” she said. Who knew more about despairing causes than her, after all? “Do it privately. A martyr is the last thing you need to end a rebellion.”

King Rash’s eyes grew wide with the thought of no longer having his plaything around to torture, but it was General Tandem who dared to speak up. “He deserves a trial.”

“If you’ve kept him in his cell for 5 years, then you must not think a trial is that important,” responded Pallas.

“Your Majesty,” the old general turned to his king. “You know that it is our national custom to execute a servant of Onderon only after he takes one last look at the sunset. Even a private execution deserves that. Execute him tomorrow. We should all sleep on his decision.”

The King fixed his gaze at the old general. “Indeed,” the King said. “We will complete your orders tomorrow, general. At sunset.”

[][][]

Jeopard left the palace just after midnight and crossed the streets of Iziz in the dark, disobeying the nightly curfew. She banged on the door of the rebel hideout in the city and was let in by Saw. “I have important news,” she breathed. “Dendup is going to be executed tomorrow.” Her words made for a tense silence to fall upon the room.

“What?” Steela asked, standing up straight and leading Jeopard into the room for her to relay her whole story. “What do you mean?”

“I saw the King being commanded to execute King Dendup in the privacy of his chambers. The execution was delayed by General Tandem until sunrise,” said Jeopard.

“Who commanded the king?” asked Ahsoka.

“I don’t know. It was a hologram of a Separatist general. Human. A girl,” said Jeopard.

A tenseness fell upon the two Republicans, but it was Lux’s reaction that everyone noticed. The colour drained from his face and anger flew into his eyes like a pack of dogs. There was bitter venom in his mouth. _So this is how Dooku decided to retaliate._ “How dare she…” he said, with a growling, deep voice. His clenched fists shook. “How dare she come _here_ … Here of all places!”

“Lux…” Ares reached out to his friend with his hand, feeling unimaginable rage in the boy. “Buddy, it’s not personal. She goes where Dooku commands.”

Lux responded with violence. He smacked Ares’ hand away, grabbed the captain by the collar and used all his strength to slam him against the wall. “There is always a choice! She had a choice! And she chose to murder my mother and oppress my people! All because you made the choice to run away!” Lux screamed out into Ares’ face. It was like a caged, gnawing monster had finally been unleashed. The captain had never seen his friend so furious and unhinged and… shattered. There was so much heartbreak and pain in him that Ares felt nothing but pity.

Seeing that his rage was misplaced and that he had made a scene, Lux let go of Ares and stomped out of the room.

Ahsoka came up to Ares and offered him a hand up. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” said Ares. He saw Steela following where Lux had disappeared to. “I think he wants to be alone,” he said to her, but the rebel glared at him.

“Or maybe he needs a real friend,” she said and ran after Lux. She found him brooding on the balcony, starring at the city, and letting the rainwater fall onto his face, cooling his heated face. Steela approached with caution. “Quite a show you made back there,” she said to him over the sound of the rainfall. He didn’t respond. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“You should go back inside,” Lux’s voice was much calmer now. “We need to plan what to do about Dendup. I’ll be along. I just need to cool off.” He took in the scent of the rain and closed his eyes.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” Steela insisted.

Perhaps it was the chill of the rain that had cooled Lux’s burning rage or his regret at having lashed out so violently, but he didn’t tell Steela to leave him again. He welcomed her presence. “The girl who is commanding the King and marshalling the droid army against us is Pallas of Serenno. She is the daughter of Count Dooku and Ares’ sister. I used to be in love with her.”

“Oh…” Steela seemed to understand the delicate situation. “…I see.”

“A few days before my mother died, I confessed my feelings to her. I was stupid and drunk. An idiot. I keep thinking about those last few days over and over and I keep dreaming about the things that I could have done differently, but it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. On the eve of my mother’s death…” Lux’s voice broke as he remembered it all. The pain was searing. “She said she couldn’t lose me… disgusting liar… but when I went home, I found…” Lux was at his most fragile. He was shaking. The tears were stinging his cheeks. “Pallas’ droids had butchered my mother. There was blood everywhere,” he said, creakingly. “Every night, I lie in bed thinking how it was possible for _her_ to do that. My mother practically raised her like her own daughter!” Lightning crackled above their heads and the rain beat down unforgivingly. “She’s a monster. And now she’s here. In our home. Fighting me.”

“Oh, Lux… I’m so… I’m so sorry,” Steela said tentatively. She reached out to Lux. “We will bring justice for your mother’s death. Pallas of Serenno will pay for her heinous crimes, I promise.”

Steela’s touch carried that sympathy for his pain that the boy so yearned for and her words gave him strength. The promise of vengeance seemed to be made valid by her words. He kissed her, desperate to anchor his grief on someone so strong of character. Someone who could help him carry his tragic burden. She relished his lips, happy to finally have him and to take away his pain. The rain fell all around them.

[][][]

“What’s taking them so long?” Saw asked the group aloud, indignantly.

“It’s best for brothers that they don’t think about what their sisters do with boys in private,” muttered Ares, sensing the emotions happening on the balcony. _At least his powers still worked on others,_ he thought, ruefully, casting an involuntary glance at Ahsoka. “We should plan what we should do about Dendup. They can pitch in when they’re done.”

“We need to free him,” said Saw, slamming his fist into his palm. “If we let him die, our cause is lost. Jeopard, when are they executing him?”

“Tomorrow at dusk, as per the custom,” said Jeopard.

“Thank god for old traditions,” said Saw. “Can you lead us into the palace?”

“Dendup’s cell is located on the wall of the palace that is scalable. We should have no trouble infiltrating the palace with cable guns, if you have any,” she replied.

“Sounds like a plan. Right, commander?” said Ares.

Ahsoka had a look of uncertainty. “I… need to council with my masters what the wisest course of action would be. Risking so many lives to save one seems… counterintuitive.” She force-summoned the holo-transmitter to her. “And you need your leader’s approval of his plan if you want to go ahead. Don’t get riled up by the prospect of a good fight, boys. Rest for now. We still have some time,” she said. “Captain, let’s go,” she said and pointed to the holotransmitter.

Ares sighed and followed the order. They went to find some privacy in a corridor of the hideout where they wouldn’t be interrupted. “You know, your feelings for Bonterri are misplaced, right?” he said.

She gave him a confused look with narrowed eyes. “What are you talking about?” she asked, and he interpreted it to be defensiveness.

“I’m not trying to shame you or anything and I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m just stating a fact. Whatever happened on Karlac, you’re pinning after someone who’s not interested,” he said, indignantly.

“You are ridiculous,” she scoffed, but then an idea formed. If he thought she was pinning after Bonterri, she could ask him something intimate and he wouldn’t know. “In your… worldly wisdom, how do you get rid of these feelings?” she asked, completely unabashed. Her forwardness and seeming admittance made him stagger back. The horror in his face gave her unexplainable delight.

“Well… the way that I’m thinking of is forbidden for devout Jedi,” said Ares, grinning. _Not to mention it doesn’t seem to work,_ he thought privately. She scoffed at him. “What is open for you is to observe the signs that he’s just not that into you.”

 _Amazing. Everything you just said is both true and completely, utterly useless for me_ , she thought. “You’re as helpful as always, Ares,” she said, sarcastically. Then she pushed the button, contacting Coruscant. Skywalker and Kenobi rose out of the device. She began debriefing them. “The rebels are divided,” she told them. “If they try to rescue the king now, I’m afraid we might lose them.”

“We cannot control their fate,” said Kenobi.

“I just… they’re risking their lives to save just one,” said Ahsoka. _Despite the feelings of attachment that she’s developed,_ thought Ares, _she’s become such a Jedi._ It didn’t help his sour mood.

“The King is a very old man, general. He’s failed his people before with his indecisiveness at the dawn of the Clone Wars. Perhaps it is time for a younger candidate to try and lead the system,” said Ares. “The rebel group is full of hot-blooded, idealistic youths who could lead this system to prosperity. Why risk so much for the old and mistaken?” said Ares. 

“Do not underestimate the King’s power. He represents hope and is critical to their success,” said Kenobi. _Kenobi is a man who liked tradition,_ thought Ares.

“I feel responsible for them,” Ahsoka admitted.

“I know you do, Snips, but remember purpose must come before feelings,” said Anakin, meaningfully.

“I know, master,” said Ahsoka.

“Step in only if you must,” warned Kenobi. “But remember, if this experiment is to become an effective strategy they must learn to survive on their own.”

“Yes, master Kenobi. We understand,” said Ahsoka and turned off the hologram.

[][][]

Steela and Lux returned flushed and dripping from rainwater. Lux’s mood had been uplifted certainly and he approached Ares with an apology for his previous behaviour. He stretched out a hand of peace.

Ares looked critically at the peace offering for a moment. “Sure,” he said. It took every shred of his willpower to accept it, though the rift between old friends remained.

Steela approved of the plan to break the king out of the cell and Ahsoka gave them the blessing of the Jedi. They set off in the early hours of the morning when, as Jeopard confirmed, was the least busy time for the royal palace. They wouldn’t be spotted. She led them to the side of the palace that housed the prisoner cells. There was a group of ten of them that went on this rescue mission. It was a surprisingly unguarded, clear path to take.

“You sure this is the way?” Saw whispered to Jeopard. The lack of guards was suspect.

“Yes. I bring the king the food that Rash doesn’t finish. I fear the guards don’t feed him enough and he is an old man, after all,” said Jeopard. “This is the cell. Sometimes he’s allowed to go for a walk in this garden, but that’s his cell over there,” she said and pointed to the dark cell on the ground level. It was unguarded too.

They moved to the cell. Steela punched the lock on the wall. The doors slid open and she went inside. She gasped in horror.

Ramses Dendup was dead. His body was incarcerated in cuffs, suspended behind a ray shield. There were three black shots puncturing his chest and the blood soaked his white robe and silver beard. The eyes were half-closed and deathly, starring back at them in haunted betrayal. Steela burst out of the cell with panicked tears in her eyes. Seeing his sister’s reaction, Saw rushed in, followed by Lux.

“He’s dead,” Steela said, her face pale. “They killed him. I don’t understand. It’s not sunset… it’s not even sunrise.”

Before anyone could say anything more, a shot fired and hit Jeopard in the back, killing her instantly. The dull clank of droid feet rushed at their position. More red blasters shots forced Ahsoka and Ares to take out their lightsabres and provide the rebels with cover. This was an ambush. They were surrounded by droids. The trap had been sprung.

“It appears we’ve been fed misleading information,” Ares said, looking at the corpse of their informer on the ground.

“We should have known,” said Ahsoka. “We’re completely cut off!”

“Surrender, rebels!” the droid commander shouted.

“If anyone has any ideas, now would be a good time,” Ares said.

“Yeah… one,” said Lux. “I’ll provide a distraction, whilst you roll the droid poppers,” he told Steela. He tucked his blaster into his holster and lifted his arms up as if surrendering.

“Lux, don’t!” Steela hissed at him.

But he ignored her.

Lux stepped forward, taking a deep breath to quiet his nerves. _Calm down, Bonterri._ He’d waited for this for months, running through a thousand scenarios in which he’d meet his mother’s murderer. _Mother’s murderer,_ he thought, _what a strange title for Pal._ He’d been thinking about nothing else for months and yet calling the girl he loved ‘mother’s murderer’ boggled his mind.

“I wish to speak to your general!” he yelled out to the droids and put his hands up. “I surrender.”

As if he had said the magic word, the droids stopped firing. They looked at one another strangely and a yellow-crested commander walked up with a hologram receiver. The blue hologram of Pallas appeared instantly.

She was seated, hunched in a commander’s seat over some maps, and looking more worn and shattered than Lux had ever seen her in his life. It was hardly the girl Lux had known his whole life; hardly the girl he’d fallen in love with. She turned her head to the side to address the newest hologram and saw him. Her face was a strange mix of emotion, as if a far-fetched plan had come together.

“General, the rebels have surrendered. Should we disarm them?” said the commander droid holding her hologram. She threw up her hand as a sign of halting the advance and simply stared down at Lux, mesmerised. She was searching for something in him, but he couldn’t tell what it was.

“Lux?” she asked, disbelieving, and rubbed her eyes to be sure that he was really on the hologram. “Is that you?”

Lux put his hands behind his back and gave the signal to his friends to continue his plan and disable the droids. “One would think I’d be easy to recognise after what you did,” he said, caging all his violent emotions. “Or am I one of many?” There was ice in his voice.

“Lux—” she said.

“Did you do it?” he asked the question that had been numbing his brain for months. Now that she was here, in front of him, he could finally ask her. What if she hadn’t done it? What if it was all a crazy, nightmare of a coincidence? When he had found his mother, he didn’t put together that Pallas could have done it for some time. What if she hadn’t? If it was, he could convince her to stop the droid occupation of Onderon. Everything would be alright. Everything would return to normal, or as normal as it could be. “Did you…” how would one even describe what happened that night? “… do _it_.”

Her lip opened and closed several times before she decided on what she would tell him, choosing her words so carefully. “Lux… there’s powers at play that you haven’t the slightest idea about,” she said, and he finally understood that everything he had hoped for was futile. The same sentence she told his mother at that last dinner. That truly insufficient reason for cold-blooded murder whilst she made love to him.

“You could have told me,” he said. “You used to tell me everything.”

“I wish I could have,” she said. “Lux, please believe me—"

“Why are you here?” he demanded. “Why are you on Onderon? How dare you come here? How dare you, after it all, hurt my people too?”

“I have no choice,” she said.

“Did you ever love me?” asked Lux.

“I- I still do—”

“Was it worth it?” he demanded of her. “Was all of it worth it? Any of it?”

She closed her eyes, unable to look him in the eyes as she said the next word. "One day, it will be," she said.

It was her remorselessness that blew the fuse. Lux exploded in a thunderstorm of rage. The wrath in his grey eyes could have burned through iron. “Liar!” he violently screamed. “You monster! Sadist! I’ll kill you myself!” He took his blaster and shot the commander droid. The holotransmitter dropped on the floor and crunched under the heel of Lux’s boot.

The droid poppers that were rolled under the droids whilst Lux was distracting their general went off and a path cleared for them to make a getaway. Ares and Ahsoka brought up the rear and defended the rebels’ backs, deflecting stray shots.

“There’s something off about this. I can feel it,” said Ares. Ahsoka looked at him quizzically. “The droids are programmed to not accept enemy surrender unless given an express order from their officer, which means—”

“She’s letting us leave. Maybe she’s hoping we’ll lead her to the hideout,” said Ahsoka, catching his train of thought.

“Exactly,” said Ares. “I suggest we split up and hideout around the city and meet up at our base in the evening, commander.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Ahsoka.

The rebels obeyed and scattered in different directions away from their secret city-base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Please remember to REVIEW.


	14. Jealous Warpaths Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANNOUNCEMENT: There will be two chapters that will have this announcement (Chapter 14 and 16). You can only read this chapter for the first time once. So savour it.

#  **Chapter 14 – Jealous Warpaths Part 2**

To wait out any agents or droids that Pallas might have sent after them, the rebels needed to kill time until their rendezvous point.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” said Ares, as he took a seat beside his commander. Both were cloaked in hooded brown robes and sitting on a bench in the town square. He had chosen it because it had a great vantage point to locate any would-be followers. It seemed like she had the same idea. 

“I see great minds think alike,” said Ahsoka, shuffling half a centimetre away from him. Ares saw the gesture. He never hated Lux more in his entire life.

“Do you know where the others are, commander?” asked Ares, steering the conversation away from hurt and towards business.

“Yeah, I’m keeping tabs on them. Steela is hiding out in sector four. Lux is in sector three and Saw is in sector five,” said Ahsoka. After a moment, she added, “it was stupid of us to go free the King.”

“No,” said Ares. “We wouldn’t know until we tried it. And we got away with it.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath, cautious of broaching the next subject. “It looks like Pallas was responsible for—”

“I don’t want to talk about her,” interrupted Ares, clenching his eyes. He had never fully believed the rumours that his sister had killed the woman who was like a mother to them. Not until he heard it out of his twin’s mouth. He chose not to think about that now.

“Alright,” said Ahsoka, nodding.

“Let’s talk about something else,” said Ares, rubbing his eyes and yawning. _Bedtime is 8.30, my ass, Obi-Mom_ , he thought to himself. He hadn’t slept in two days. “Anything else.”

Actually, there was something she wanted to talk to him about and now, whilst they were killing time, was a good a time as any. She briefly wondered whether she should share this information at all, but by then it was already out of her mouth.

“I think your theories about Master Skywalker and Senator Amidala are correct,” she said.

“Yeah? Why do you think that?” asked Ares.

 _I’ll see you at home, Ani._ The words had been haunting her for days. “Just… have a weird feeling about it,” said Ahsoka.

He made a bitter laugh. “Wait so… now that you ran into Bonterri, suddenly relationships and attachments are acceptable? Cherry-picking your code is suddenly an option? That’s rich,” said Ares, voice broken and scowling. Ahsoka mentally face-palmed herself for bringing up this subject to distract him. She had forgotten that he still thought she was into Bonterri. “What is it about Bonterri that is so appealing to all the girls around here?” asked Ares.

“Ares—” Ahsoka tried.

“Is it the trauma? Is it the hair?” asked Ares. “I have nice hair. And you know trauma is only a good basis of a relationship if its shared so…” Ares made a gesture as if his point had been proven.

Ahsoka briefly thought of all hers and Ares’ shared trauma. Her eyes briefly flickered up to his platinum hair. “I agree,” she said quietly. She received a withering glare in return.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” he asked, turning away from her. He distracted himself by watching some merchant selling his goods to a woman a few yards away. “You know I like you. Not exactly a big secret.”

“Doing what?” asked Ahsoka, ignoring the deep blush of her stripes. “What have I been doing to you?”

“Rubbing salt in the wound,” he said.

“I’m not! I’m not doing that!” she whisper-hissed. “You’re doing that… to yourself.”

He ignored that and thought of how best to inflict onto her what she was doing to him. A devious smile crept onto his lips. “How do you picture it?” he asked, taking a gamble.

“Picture what?” she asked, exasperated.

“The sex… you and Bonterri,” he said, barely capable of getting the disgusting words out of his own mouth.

“Ares!” he exclaimed angrily.

“Sh! You’ll give us away to the Seppies,” Ares warned her, looking around for eavesdroppers. He used that as an excuse to shuffle closer to her. “Is it hot?” he whispered to her. She turned away so that he wouldn’t see her embarrassed face. “Does he know where to kiss you? And not the lips – that’s not very creative.”

“Ares, I really don’t think—”

“There’s parts of your lekku that needs to be tended, soothingly, with fingers and tongue, until you scream out—” he whispered.

“Ares—”

“Good. Exactly like that,” he said, surprised that she hadn’t stomped out in protest yet. He continued his tantalizing torment. “There are parts of you that you yourself don’t know about. What the Jedi forbid to explore. Even now, in this moment, you’re thinking about what it would be like to be touched there. Kissed there. Caressed. You’d be begging. Wanting what you shouldn’t want. Like a good girl gone bad. A raging fire that you can’t extinguish. A thirst that you can’t ever quench,” he finished painting his sweet picture, sat back and waited for her response.

She fixed glaring blue eyes at him. “Quite a picture you’ve painted.”

“Oh no,” he said. “Bonterri wouldn’t know his left hand from his right. To get a really good image, it has to be me doing those things to you. Now, try getting that out of your head.” He stood up and, satisfied with the shattered expression of her face, smiled. “No need to thank me.”

“…Kriff,” she whispered to herself as a distinct feeling of déjà vu washed over her. She could do with a cold shower.

[][][]

They all rendezvoused on schedule. None of them reported having seen any droids following them, but the mood of the camp was evidently more despondent.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Saw. “She’s done what she wanted. She killed our hope and made us see it. Our cause is now pointless. It would have been better to kill _us_.”

“Don’t say that,” said Ares. “Not everything is lost.”

“How can you say that?” Lux said, accusatively.

“You began this rebellion without Dendup’s help. You can carry on without him too,” said Ares. “You can start again. Change starts at home, not in any Senate or upon any throne. Rebrand the rebellion, but with a new hope: a promise for democracy.”

“I agree,” said Steela. “Our true king is dead, but we can still use him as a martyr – tell the people that he’s been barbarically killed without trial and before he could see his last sunset. We can still depose Rash.” Steela’s words received the cheers and the support of the rebel group. “We have a lot of work to do then.”

Later, Ahsoka and Ares gave their daily report to Kenobi and Skywalker, informing them of the rebel’s latest developments. “…the Separatists definitely know we’re involved,” said Ahsoka.

“Then prepare yourself. The real war is about to begin,” said Kenobi.

“Great,” muttered Ares. “Makes you wonder what we’ve been doing this whole time.”

“Will you be able to send some help?” Ahsoka asked her masters.

“That’s… up the council, Snips,” said Skywalker.

“Meaning ‘no’,” said Ares, growled dissatisfied. He left Ahsoka to say goodbye to their generals.

[][][]

The next morning Ahsoka and Lux spread new holotransmitters around the city to project a newly recorded message from Steela. Her hologram appeared all over Iziz.

“My fellow brothers and sisters! I have grave news! Our rightful king has been killed by the tyrant Rash. Given no trial and not even permitted to see his last sunset of Onderon, he was violently murdered in his prison cell last night. Let us not allow his brutal murder to go unpunished. Join us and together we will bring an end to the ruthless tyrant that calls himself our King! Join the true sons of Onderon and we will be free from tyranny and create the democracy that we truly deserve! Down with the monarchy!” she boldly declared to the whole city. “We must all rise together to protect this planet!”

Ahsoka and Lux made their escape on the flying reptile that was native to the planet and flew to their jungle base. They had retreated into the foliage in order to train new recruits. A steady supply had been trickling in from the city.

Ares watched Lux and Ahsoka return together, envy rearing its ugly head in his chest.

They touched down and Ahsoka took notice of the captain’s disapproving expression. She sucked in air, patted Lux on the shoulder and said, “We’ll be right over. The captain and I need to have a little chat.” Lux nodded. Ahsoka slid off the reptile, walked up to the captain, grabbed his elbow, and pulled him to one of the private parts of their base. “What’s your problem?”

“I disapprove,” he said. “Of the amount of time you spend with Bonterri.”

Anger and frustration flew into her eyes. “I don’t owe you anything! You have nothing to be jealous over! Lux and I are nothing. So, stop acting like a jealous, spited boyfriend!”

“So, why are you spending so much time together?” Ares bit back.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re at war and there’s a very good chance that the leader of our enemies is trying to assassinate him. He needs protection, and, because of your own jealousy and stubbornness, you are not there to do that. Both of you refuse to spend any time with each other,” she said with a scowl. “Some friends you call yourselves.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault,” he said, bitterly, though he knew she was right. He and Bonterri not had an honest conversation. There was too much to say and too much hurt between them, so both boys avoided one another.

Ahsoka sighed. “Every moment you stay jealous, you become smaller and smaller in my eyes,” she said, quietly. “You do yourself a great disservice. I know you to be a much better man than this.”

Her words caught him off guard. He blinked, confused, and struggled for words. “Ahsoka, I—”

“Save it!” she snapped. “You can make up for it with actions. Now, go be the noble warrior I know that you are.” She turned on her heels and left him, confident in knowing that she had given him some perspective. He followed her back to the others, blank mind spinning.

“The people are turning against the droids!” Lux said once Ahsoka and Ares joined their planning. “There’s rising in the streets now.”

“It’s a beautiful thing,” said Saw.

“We need to keep the battle to the outskirts of the city,” said Steela.

“Less structures and people,” Lux agreed.

“But less clankers. Their main force is in Iziz. We should gather our supporters and fight down there and take it straight to King Rash,” argued Saw.

“We all want victory, but not at the cost of innocent lives!” Steela said. “If we fight door to door, no one is safe.”

“This is war, Steela,” said Saw.

“I agree with Steela,” said Ahsoka. “The more you draw the droids from the city to the highlands, the safer the people will be.”

“What do you think, captain?” Saw nudged Ares.

“If we don’t make our move soon, my sister will. And with an unforgiving force,” said Ares. “But that doesn’t mean that our move needs to be done in the city. Draw the droids out. Use guerrilla warfare. The droids are not designed to fight trees, rocks and animals.”

“Excellent, then let’s saddle up,” said Steela, but when everyone broke away to get on their own beasts of burden, Ahsoka spoke up. 

“Actually, I want you two to sort out your differences before we go into battle,” she said and pointed to both Lux and Ares. “Get on Lux’s reptile and sort out your spat.”

They all looked at Ahsoka strangely. “Are you sure that’s wise? That’s hundreds of feet between two bickering boys and the ground,” said Steela.

“If I’ve learnt anything from Master Skywalker, it’s that a high stake is a great conflict resolver,” said Ahsoka.

“You didn’t grow up with siblings, did you?” asked Saw.

Ahsoka ignored Saw and glared at Ares. “Get on that reptile and get going,” she persisted.

“Fine!” Ares almost yelled, glaring back at her. He saddled the beast, fuming.

“Whatever,” Lux scowled. He took the reins and they shot off into the sky together. There was a long, awkward silence.

“…You know, if I was staying here solely for your fine hospitality, I would be long gone,” said Ares.

“How unfortunate that would be,” muttered Lux, sarcastically. “You and your lot mean nothing but misery in my life.”

“My lot? Who is this ‘my lot’? I’ve been without ‘a lot’ for a while. Enlighten me,” Ares replied, indignant.

“You come as a pair,” Lux replied with gritted teeth. “She betrayed me. She used me. She deceived me and so will you. I’m just waiting for the traitor colours to show.”

“Lux…” Ares groaned aloud and pinched his eyes. “You know what treason is, right? I’ll spell out the definition for you. It’s when you cross enemy lines and sell out your whole state. It’s when you fight battles every day against your sister and plot to murder your father. It’s when there’s a bounty on your head in Confederate gold and assassins try to murder you in the night. It’s when you go and advise a rebellion against your own father’s government. Joining the Republic had been the hardest, loneliest thing I’ve ever had to do. I would have given anything to have a Separatist friend beside me. And now that I do, I wish you’d stayed on Raxus. It’s a twisted thing.”

“I wish that too… for you. I wish you’d have never betrayed the Confederacy,” said Lux. “Then Pallas wouldn’t have taken your commission as a commander. She’d be home and my mother would still be alive.”

The mention of Mina made Ares stop whatever angry retort he’d formed. He paused, trying to do what Obi-Wan had taught him – to empathise with a victim of a cruel fate. To remember that his pain was not only pain in the galaxy. “…I’m sorry, Lux,” said Ares, meaning it. “I’m so sorry.”

Lux sighed deeply and hung his head. The reptile squawked and beat its wings to fly higher into the chilly air. The ground was very far below. “I’m sorry too,” said Lux. “That was unfair.”

Ares took a gamble. The ice needed to be broken. “I’m obviously the prettier twin,” said Ares.

There was no response to the joke and Ares was ready to settle back into the awkward silence. “And the less funny one, apparently,” Lux said, after a few moments.

“Savage, Bonterri,” said Ares. There was a pause, neither knew what to say next. “You certainly know how to pick a girl,” said Ares, referring to Steela.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lux snarled, his mind still on Pallas, as it always seemed to be these days.

“Girls with guns is an unusual kink,” said Ares.

“Says the one who’s type is girls with lightsabres,” returned Lux. “I’ve seen the way you look at Ahsoka. I’m… sorry about this mess.”

“What happened on Karlac? She won’t tell me. It seems to be a touchy subject,” Ares said.

Lux sagged his shoulders. “We were in a Death Watch camp—”

“What an incredible act of stupidity by the way, but do go on,” said Ares.

“Well, you’re right about that. I was supposed to go alone, but Ahsoka somehow got involved. We had to lie and say that she was my betrothed to get the Death Watch to not be suspicious of her coming with me,” said Lux.

“Wow, of all the excuses you could have used, that’s the one you chose? Interesting,” said Ares with an eyeroll. “That’s it? You played a part?”

“Well, not exactly. Pre Vizsla walked in and I might have kissed her to stop her from talking about my plan,” said Lux.

Ares glared at him. “You think quick with the wrong—"

“Anyway, that’s probably why she didn’t want you to know.” Ares was silent, processing this information. “But… you have nothing to worry about.” Ares glared at him. “I’m serious! I’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. She likes you. If she didn’t, would she feel so guilty about telling you about Karlac?” said Lux.

“You don’t know her like I do. The Jedi Order is her life,” said Ares, despite being immeasurably pleased by Lux’s observation. “Peace?” he extended a hand.

“Peace,” said Lux, taking his friend’s hand. “For real this time.”

[][][]

“We are losing the public,” King Rash whined dramatically to Pallas’ hologram, as if she was his personal therapist. Then again, with Tandem’s execution as a rebel traitor, she had brought that onto herself. “If they turn against us, I fear the outcome. We must eliminate the terrorists before people commit to their efforts!”

Pallas sighed, ignoring the King’s emotions. “Commander, have you found the rebel force’s base?” she asked of her Onderonian tactical droid.

“Yes, sir,” he replied. “They are in the mountains to the east.”

“Hm, they’re trying to lure us out of the city. They fear civilian casualties,” mused Pallas.

“I know what you’re thinking. Do not make my people into human shields. I can’t afford that. I’m losing too much favour with the public,” said King Rash.

“Do not presume to know my mind, Your Majesty,” said Pallas. “I’m planning an assault. Mountains have their own advantages.”

“There’s a rising in the city. How can we spare the troops to the rebels in the mountains?” said the King.

“This rebellion has been an experiment of the Republic’s to divide the Separatist fronts and test guerrilla warfare, but this will also be an experiment for me too. In the reinforcements that arrived on Onderon is a new kind of droid: ray-shielded gunships. They were my late husband’s last designs and my father expects me to test them on the field. The rebels will provide the testing grounds,” said Pallas. She turned to the tactical droid. “I don’t care about your statistics. Send all forces to the rebel’s position. Once the rebellion is crushed, your people will fall back into obedience. I’ll personally provide you with backup reinforcements once the rebels are destroyed, Your Majesty.”

King Rash agreed. “So be it, general. Destroy the terrorists.”

“You heard the king, commander. Leave the leaders. His Majesty will need them to make an example of to his people to see what happens to those who defy him,” said Pallas.

[][][]

The rebels prepared for the oncoming droid attacks in earnest. Scouts reported the entire droid army closing in on their position: tanks, battle droids, super-battles droids, the lot. Pallas seemed to have summoned every scrap of metal on Onderon to wipe them out.

The first wave was combatted by Saw and a group of lizard riders raining explosives on them. Ares and a group of rebels charged on the ground with horses and cattle. Steela and Lux fired snipers from a good vantage point from above. The battle seemed to be going well, until one of the flying reptiles was shot down by a new breed of machine that fired missiles, torpedoes, lasers and blaster fire. More to the point, it couldn’t be shot down.

“Where did that come from?” Lux asked.

“Up there!” Ahsoka pointed to the gunships.

Steela tried firing, but her shots did nothing against the ray-shield. “Any ideas?” she asked.

“Yeah, run!” Ahsoka shouted at them and they retreated on their flying reptiles.

Saw tried throwing a grenade at it, but it didn’t even suffer a scratch. Ares led the rebels to cover, telling them to shoot from the trees and went to find Ahsoka, who was calling Coruscant. “The Separatists have a new gunship with a powerful ray-shield. Nothing is getting past it!” she yelled.

“I’m sorry, Ahsoka,” said Obi-Wan, sombrely. “They will have to find a way. Do not stay there if failure is certain. Evacuate who you can and make for Coruscant immediately. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master!” Ahsoka replied, shutting down the transmission.

“We can’t leave them, commander. Even if we wanted to. Those gunships are not going to let any ship out of the system. We have to stay, and we have to win,” said Ares.

“I know,” she replied. “Cover the ground troops. We have to regroup at the nest.”

[][][]

“The highlands may slow down the droids and tanks, but they won’t stop the gunship,” said Saw.

“We have to move,” said Steela.

“Any word from Master Skywalker?” asked Lux.

“None yet,” said Ahsoka.

An aura of defeat fell upon the group. Steela wouldn’t have it. “We’re not giving up yet,” said Steela. “Station our defences at the canyon. Secure the approach. Stay in small teams. Make use of our training.”

“You really are the best leader among us,” said Saw. “I couldn’t be prouder of my little sister.” _What I’d give to say the same,_ thought Ares briefly and shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to think how his sister was trying to kill them all.

Steela beamed at him. “I learnt from the best.”

“Let’s go, captain. We’ve got some droids to destroy,” said Saw to Ares, and the two left for the war zone.

[][][]

Lux, Ahsoka and Steela arrived at the frontlines with a batch of freshly delivered rocket launchers, courtesy of pirates.

“We’ve tried everything, but we’re target practise for those gunships,” said Saw.

“Now it’s their turn,” said Lux, handing him a rocket-launcher.

“A gift from Skywalker?” asked Ares, catching a glimpse of the new weapons. Ahsoka nodded. “Ha, I will never say this to his face, but Force-bless Skywalker.”

Saw wasted no time to try the rocket launcher and hit one of the gunships. It crashed from the skies and into the droid army beautifully, like a firework. The rebel soldiers cheered him on for it.

“Steela! They’re attacking the nest! Our supplies!” one of the rebels from the nest hideout screamed through the commlink.

“Come on!” Steela shouted to Lux and Ahsoka, jumping onto her reptile and flying off to the nest. Saw watched them fly away.

“Saw! Focus! They’ll be fine! We still have a battle to finish!” Ares yelled at Saw.

“Right,” said Saw. “Pick your targets! Fire!” He yelled at his troops. Their rockets soared through the blue skies and exploded with the gunship. “Last one’s mine,” he promised, aimed at the gunship, and let his rocket fly. The rocket collided with the flying droid and sent it spinning into the cliffs of the nest.

“Look!” One of the rebels pointed to the landing point of the collision. Saw’s shot had forced the gunship to crash into the cliff upon which Steela was fighting off the last of the droid nest invaders. Saw’s sister was holding onto dear life on the edge of a cliff. It was a very high drop.

“Oh no,” Ares whispered before he took off, using long force-leaps to cover the distance faster. Saw was running behind Ares. She was slipping. Lux was reaching for her, but his weight almost made him fall off the cliff too. He was prevented from that fate by a force lift from Ahsoka, who shielded him to safety.

She then moved to rescue Steela. “I got you!” she said, as Steela was lifted into the air, but then the shot--down gunship fired one last shot at Ahsoka, making her fall back in pain and lose her grip of the force. Seeing what happened, Lux grabbed Steela’s sniper and finished off the gunship. Steela’s screams shrieked all the way down and it was a sound that none of them would ever forget. Ahsoka, terrified of what happened, ignored the seeping blood and leaned over the cliff to see the carnage. Lux ran over to her side to see the carnage.

Steela was at the bottom of the cliff, but she was inches from the ground floating on an invisible power. A short distance away, Ares had one knee in the soil with his arms outstretched in the air as if he was holding up the heavens. A bead of sweat rolled down his brow. Gently he set her down. It took her a few moments to realise that she was not dead. She had been saved.

Saw ran up to her and embraced her tightly, also shocked about what had almost happened. There were tears in his eyes. He had almost lost his sister.

“Oh, thank the Force,” said Lux with a breath of relief. He clutched at his chest as if a great rock had hit him here. Ares force jumped up to the cliff edge where Lux and Ahsoka were. “Thank you,” Lux whispered to Ares.

Ares ignored Lux and looked at Ahsoka. “Are your hurt?” was his first question. His voice was almost broken. He had seen her die before and he’d never forget the sight of her lifeless corpse. The sight of her alive made him forget all his past jealousies and insecurities. None of it mattered anymore. She wasn’t dead and that was all that was important.

“Ares, I just got shot by a cannon. You figure it out,” said Ahsoka. The pain had rushed in only now.

There was blood everywhere, hot and dripping. Even when it missed, a gunship blast was no easy thing to survive. He was surprised she was even conscious, let alone alive. “We need to tend to your wounds,” he reasoned. “Damn, the one time I need CL-Y and she’s not here.”

“There’s still some droids we have to finish off here, but we can take care of that. There’s some first aid supplies at the nest,” said Lux, taking Steela’s sniper and running off to the battlefield.

“Right,” the captain whispered. Weary of her injury, he picked her up bridal-style and carried her to the shelter of the nest. On their short journey, Ahsoka laid her head in the crook of his neck in an effort to find comfort amidst so much blinding pain and fell asleep.

[][][]

Ahsoka opened her eyes. She was lying on a hard surface in the nest. Her shoulder was bandaged and treated, but it still hurt terribly.

“You’re awake,” Ares appeared in front of her, proffering her a cup of something warm, which she took gratefully. “That should help with the pain,” he said and sat down next to her. They sat with their shoulders touching.

“Thank you,” she said simply. “Is this your handy-work?” she asked, gesturing vaguely to her bandaged wound.

“Can’t have my commander dying on me,” he said. _Again_. “How do you feel?”

“Considering the circumstances, pretty good,” she replied and stretched. Her Togruta physique and bones were flexible and required constant exercise, even when in pain. “Is the battle still going? How long was I out?”

“They should be finishing up now, but don’t worry about them. Like you said, you just got shot by a canon,” said Ares. “It seems that I owe you an apology,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m… really sorry for the way that I acted earlier. I was jealous and hurt and small… you deserved better. You deserved a better comrade than whatever I was doing. I made a mistake,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, and sipped the beverage. Tea mixed with painkillers. Those drugs made her a bit… loopy, but she’d take anything for the pain now.

“I’ve never felt more cut off from my own powers than I have this past two weeks,” Ares added. “It’s… disorientating when I have no knowledge of the emotions that someone is feeling. Send me into the fiery battles of hell any day, so long as I can get a sense of the room.”

Ahsoka thought about the reason her emotions were blocked from him. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. “But in my defence, I think it’s quite reasonable that the few square inches between my lekku should belong to me alone.”

“I’ve never been _in_ your head. I just… sensed your feelings. No one had any objections before. People generally like it when they are understood, but, for some reason, you don’t want to be understood by me. Nonetheless, I am sorry,” said Ares. “…Is my apology satisfactory?”

She sipped the tea. “Quite,” she said. Then she started laughing. She could feel the drugs do weird things to her brain. “And for your information, I was never into Bonterri.”

Ares frowned. “He told me what happened on Karlac and I was watching you during training. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him. Then there was Skywalker’s ‘purpose before feelings’ kriff. My suspicions were not baseless,” he said.

“Not this again.” She took a deep breath and set her tea aside. “Ares, you’re so pretty, but so dumb,” said Ahsoka, making him do a double take. “Let’s get our facts straight. Fact one: he kissed me.” _And it wasn’t even that good,_ she added privately. All awkward and tense and discombobulating. It was just… not the right fit. “Fact two: it was to distract the murderous terrorists that had just come into the room—”

“Yeah, funny, how quickly he came up with that,” Ares interrupted.

“Fact three: it was my idea to pose as a fiancé because… and here’s the important bit so please focus: _unless you’re a Jedi_ , who else would recklessly follow anyone on a secret mission to a group of terrorists?” said Ahsoka.

“Ok, I get it. You’re smart. Big reveal there. Are you done yet?” growled Ares, feeling more and more stupid by the second. _Your one big spiel is emotions, Ares. How did you mess this one up?_

“Fact four: We were training rebels. I was watching them for their skills, which is what you were supposed to be doing too,” she said.

“Couldn’t. I was too busy watching you,” said Ares.

“Oh, were you?” she asked, sarcastically. Her eyes peered at his lips and remembered their addictive taste and the burn in her chest from her dream. She wondered if they tasted like that in real life. Maybe it was just the painkillers. She shook her head. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid: looking at him. Even just looking at him gave her… strange feelings.

“What’s fact number five?" he asked, looking at her.

For just a second, her brain threw out all regard for consequences. She leaned in to capture his lips in a tender, chaste kiss just to shut him up. To taste him. A touch. Hardly a peck. Just to cool her tempestuous inner moans and curiosities. He was too shocked to even respond. When she drew away, her eyes blinked unwillingly and found him staring at her as if she had grown a second head.

“Wha- wha… what?” he couldn’t even form the question; his brain was so scrambled.

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done tha—” she said, before two hands cupped her face and she was brought back onto his mouth. He kissed her avidly, putting everything he had ever felt for her into that kiss. He had imagined kissing those dark lips for so long, possibly since the day that he first met her, and had imagined exactly how he would kiss her. He wanted to engrave it in her mind, so that she would never forget it.

It was gentle and caring, yet passionate and almost greedy. It was everything she was taught not to be. She realised it was better than his own doppelgänger. She leaned into it, searching for that fiery warmth, finding his sweet tongue with her own. Her hands caressed the side of his face, gentle and cautious, but full of yearning. They tangled in his hair and drew him closer to her if that was even possible. Suddenly, a million little moments all added up.

A loud crash from the battle being waged outside broke them apart. “I should go!” she said, bolting up. It was her vision all over again. She couldn’t stay. She had to go.

“Ahsoka! Wait… You just got shot!” Ares shouted out to her, his face flushed and his breathing and heart-rate erratic, but she was gone.

She was already out there, out of his reach, running to the battle with her blade in hand. She would not let her attachments and temptations jeopardise her purpose again. She was running from him, like she’d been doing this whole time. _Your thoughts will betray you. Your feelings and your memory will be too big of a burden to bear_. A distant voice echoed in her head. It had been right. Why had she agreed to this mission knowing she’d be drawn to him like a moth to the flame? She resolved that she wouldn’t make such a mistake again.

“No! You can’t do this to me!” he yelled out into the nothingness. His voice bounced around the empty cave. Just like that, that glimmer of joy, was over.

[][][]

“General, Count Dooku is making contact,” said the pilot droid.

“Put him through,” replied Pallas’ neutral voice. The frame of the regal count appeared before her. She dropped to one knee and bowed her neck, hiding her face and its unwanted emotions. “Father.”

“I’m pleased with your victories against Eeth Koth. How fares Plo Koon?” asked Dooku, getting straight down to business.

“He’s two days away from running out of supplies,” said Pallas. “My spies report that he’s getting ready to retreat. We’ll have that system in our fold soon enough.”

“Good. Onderon, how goes your progress with the rebels?” said Dooku.

“Guerrilla warfare is… proving to be quite tricky. I did not expect it to be so successful against our droids. I need practise, time and resources to crush them. Is it your bidding that we invest further resources into this conflict?” Pallas said. She made sure that her father detected no remorse or reluctance in her voice.

“Your friend. That neighbour. The Bonterri boy. Is he a part of this conflict?” asked Dooku.

“No, father. At least, not that I know of. His absence, however, has not made this battle easy. I have many fond memories of Onderon. Laying it to waste has not been easy,” said Pallas, stoic and neutral, shielding her lie. It was a dangerous thing to say. It was better to keep moving, keep saying things, so that her father wouldn’t sense the lie. “Give me a little more time and a few more battalions and I’ll flatten it, Father.”

_I just want to get out of here. Far away. Please just take my bait, old man._

“No, leave Onderon. It’s not worth the effort. It’s too far from our territories to keep draining forces into and there are other battles that I want you to focus on,” said the count.

 _In other words, it wasn’t worth it if Bonterri wasn’t there_. _This was all a long, drawn-out punishment_.

“As you wish,” said Pallas.

“Order our forces to retreat and kill the king. We don’t want him making any fuss,” reasoned Dooku.

“As you wish, father,” said Pallas, forbidding herself a premature celebration. Her last witness had been given his death sentence. Now she just needed to wipe the droid commanders’ memories and the reports of Bonterri’s involvement.

“My master has taken notice of your success,” said Dooku. The feeling of success and elation drained from Pallas’ mind and a frigid coldness took hold of her. “He is pleased by your success in the battlefield. He believes that you have a particularly important part to play in a battle that is soon to occur.”

“… I’m- I’m honoured,” said Pallas. “What system is it?”

“Coruscant. You will lead the Separatist forces in the skies, whilst General Grievous is tasked with kidnapping the Chancellor. Do your research. Plan the invasion. You will have the entire army at your disposal. Buy more if necessary. We will bring the Republic to its knees,” said Dooku.

“I won’t let you down, Father,” she promised.

[][][]

The rebel’s good fortunes had been made quite obvious to them when the droid transports lifted from the ground and evacuated the system. Celebrations erupted all over the city. They were free.

“When are you leaving?” Lux asked his old friend during the celebration of the rebel base. The alcohol was flowing, the laughter and cheer was joyous and the streets of Onderon’s capital had never been more beautiful. The two young men were sitting on a bench in the city square, where the festivities were happening. “I don’t mean that in a ‘get off my planet’ way. More like a ‘don’t leave me so soon, my friend’ kind of way,” said Lux.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” said Ares. He was the only one not drinking at the party. He wasn’t in the mood for numbness. “Dawn, to answer your question. General Kenobi is sending a shuttle tonight and we leave at dawn. Commander Tano and I are needed elsewhere.”

“That’s a shame,” said Lux. “I was just starting to enjoy your company again.”

“Really? That’s all it takes? Saving your girlfriend’s life from perilous doom?” asked Ares. “I’ll make a note for the future.”

Lux detected the underlying bitterness. “What’s going on with you and Ahsoka?”

“I wish I knew,” said Ares.

“Why don’t you?” asked Lux.

“She’s avoiding me,” said Ares.

“Last time I tried it, avoiding you isn’t a good enough strategy to get rid of you,” said Lux.

Ares looked across the square to where Ahsoka was speaking with Steela. “Thanks buddy,” Ares said, sarcastically. “Really feeling the love there.”

[][][]

She hadn’t spoken to him since the kiss. She was avoiding him, avoiding it, out of fear. Fear of possibility. Fear of confronting what it had meant. Fear of being unable to stop herself. She still didn’t even fully understand what had possessed her to do something so unfathomably stupid. It was such an unfortunate case of sod’s law that as soon as she was left alone with him, without their masters, that something like this would happen. Jedi were forbidden attachment. Jedi were supposed to have discipline and self-restraint. A Jedi was strong. All things Ahsoka had always prided herself with being, but now disproven with one stupid act.

She hadn’t felt this conflicted after her accidental kiss with Lux. Because that was it: an accident. A story to sell to Pre Vizsla and his men. No doubt other Jedi had done the same when undercover with a part to play. It didn’t mean anything, but the kiss with Ares scared her. They had been alone. There were no life or death stakes. She had leaned in, but that’s not what scared her most. What terrified her was that she didn’t want to let go of him. She wanted to kiss him more. She resented their interruption for bringing her out of her illusion. The illusion had been sweet and real. The scary truth that she’d been ignoring this whole time was that her blood burned for him.

A hand tapped her shoulder. “We need to talk. Can I have you for five minutes, commander?” Ares asked.

Steela took that as her cue. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” she said and ran off to join Lux.

“You can’t keep avoiding me like this,” said Ares.

“I’m not avoiding you,” she said, even as she looked around the city plaza.

“I can literally see you planning a retreat,” he said. A playful smirk appeared on his face. “And here I thought the brave Ahsoka Tano couldn’t possibly be scared of a boy.”

“I’m not scared of you!” she said, aghast at the very notion.

“Good. Then you’ll have no qualms with a simple conversation for five minutes,” he said. To prove his point, he pulled out a watch from his belt. “Five minutes of me talking and you not interrupting or running away. Sound good?”

“Ok,” she said, dreading it. If this talk was anything like their last private conversation, she’d lose her mind.

Around them, a drunken group of people propped open a new bottle and cheered loudly. “Great, but it’s too loud here,” he said.

He took her hand in his metal grip and lead her away from the party. His mere touch sent electricity up her skin. _Pull it together, Tano,_ she thought to herself. He found a dark sidewalk corridor between buildings and turned to face her. They were very close now. She could feel his body-heat and smell his smoky scent.

“Ok,” he said and took a deep breath. “I’m not cornering you. At least, I’m not trying to.”

Ahsoka looked at the literal corner they were standing in. “Certainly, doesn’t feel like it,” she said.

“Remember what you said about not interrupting me?” he asked. She remained quiet. “Thank you. I’m not cornering you. If anything, I want to lift a burden off your shoulders. I know how much the Order and Code means to you.” And he did. He had long acknowledged that. Memories of a seedy neighbourhood and the chink of credits being dropped on a reception desk crept in. He pushed them aside. “As much as I would like for it to be… otherwise, I would never ask you to forfeit what you believe in.” Another memory seeped in. This one was of Mandalore. He remembered the buried longing in Obi-Wan’s eyes as he watched the woman he loved but could never have. “I’ve long resigned to that fact. I just need practise keeping my peace with it. But it’s okay. I promise.”

Something about his speech made her soften. “Thank you,” she said, quietly.

“You’ll be a great Jedi Knight one day and I…” Where would he be after the war if he even survived it? He had to think about that for a second. The paths of the Sith and the Jedi seemed equally closed to him. “I’ll continue to grate your nerves and question your dumb Code until the end of days.” She said nothing. Her face and thoughts were a clouded enigma for him. He pressed on, trying to make light of the situation. “There. Congratulations, you have been friend-zoned,” he said. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” But there was no smile on her face. In fact, she looked something akin to angry.

 _How was it kriffing possible that he could make himself even more attractive after a friend-zoning?_ She thought to herself, furiously. This was why she didn’t want to talk to him. He’d do something like this and make her knees weak. “Ares, are you… Letting go of your attachments? Like a good Jedi?” she said, attempting to tease, whilst she could process her thoughts and feelings.

His face dropped. “Don’t insult me,” he said. “Unlike your fragile colleagues, my attachments make me powerful.” His hatred for his father gave him strength. The pain his sister brought him gave him passion. His incessant quarrels with Obi-Wan or Anakin or the Council gave him power. But then there was the guiding light of Ahsoka to put his myriad of emotions into perspective. She pulled him out of his abyss, that void that swallowed him in his darkest moments. “But I digress. My point is that… you have nothing to fear or to be ashamed of. I have crafted the perfect story about what happened in the nest to soothe your guilty conscience.”

She flinched at the word ‘story’. It wouldn’t be real. Even if he had come up with something to explain everything, there would still be… so much that was real. Whatever he had come up with, it wasn’t real. They both always know what had been real, but she still wanted to listen to his futile efforts. “Let’s hear it then,” she said.

“You were high,” he stated and watched Ahsoka cross her arms with one eye-brow crooked. “Yup. Drugged from a weird tea that was probably expired. Totally my fault. Sorry. Meanwhile, I was just administering a painkiller to my commander after she got shot with a canon,” he said with an absurd kind of confidence that made her smile. “Yes, Your Honour, Master Jedi, my lips are painkillers. If I had to, I’d have done the same to any one of you.”

“What if it was Master Skywalker that was injured?” she asked.

“…maybe let him suffer for a bit. I’m not a charity,” he said, which made her laugh. The watch buzzed and the promised five minutes were up. “And that’s time. I’m a man of my word.” He moved to get out of the alleyway when her hand shot up to the wall and blocked his way. “I can’t fulfil my promise if you stand in my way,” he whispered.

She sighed, drew up her hand to take the watch from him and set it for five minutes. “My turn,” she said.

He crooked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “You know I did that to make you feel safe, right? We don’t have to talk in five-minute increments.”

“What was that you said about interrupting?” she snapped. He smirked and backed away to hear what she had to say.

She took a deep breath, as she would before a great battle. “You know what? I don’t need this thing,” she said and tucked it into her pocket. “We can pretend that your little… story was what happened, but we both know that’s not true,” she said. His playful façade dropped as he realised that she wasn’t taking his out. “What is true is that I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” she said. Her eyes found his. “I want to kiss your neck.”

Like an attack, it came with a ferocity and roughness neither had ever felt before. Their hot mouths moulded together. Tongues devoured one another. They were young and their blood was hot, and their mouths needed one another. Her fingers ran through his platinum hair. There was a hunger inside of her that he hadn’t seen before and it stirred a wild creature deep within. She pushed him against the brick wall and her lips moved to his neck to fulfil her promise. She kissed him in a way that made him moan.

“Ahsoka, the code…” he whispered, struggling to keep his throat from making strange noises.

“I’ve never been great at following the rules,” she whispered against his neck, before biting him again, harder. He hissed in pleasure.

“But, you’ll be expelled,” he said. His metal hand ran up her back, that naked spine, admiring at her toned, sculpted body, giving her shivers. He avoided her injury, but there was still much he could touch and caress.

“No one has to know. It could be our little secret,” she said, and a thrill ran through her blood as she said it. If her master, with all his lack of subtlety, could do this and get away with it, she’d have no problem.

Ares couldn’t take it anymore. “I want you… so bad,” he whispered. His mouth was almost touching hers, their noses bumping into one another.

“So do I,” she found herself answering. “But not here.”

“No,” he agreed. His thumb traced her sharp cheek, lingering on the white winged marking there. He marvelled that she wanted him and knew that his present euphoria was not doing this moment enough justice. “There’ll be empty rooms in the King’s Palace,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “No,” she said, her fingers in his soft platinum hair. “We’ll be found there.” She might have been bold in this decision, but she wasn’t bold enough for being found just yet.

“How about the jungle?” he suggested. “You’re feeling wild, aren’t you?”

“Do you want to get interrupted by a cow or something?” she asked.

“We don’t have to go very far into the jungle,” he shrugged. “The outskirts. Where no cow can see us.”

The memory of her dream flashed in her mind. “Sounds good,” she said with a smile, kissing his lips one more time. He lingered on that one, biting her lower lip. His eyes sparkled with delight.

It wasn’t difficult to find a speeder on the streets and everyone was too drunk and jubilant to notice two shadows slip away. The young man took the steering wheel in his hands and sped them both in the dark shadowy depths of the trees. “Hope you’re not scared of the dark,” Ares teased.

She gave him an amused look. “I’m not scared of anything,” she said with utmost confidence. _Kriff, she’s beautiful,_ Ares marvelled. “Have you done this before?” she asked, making him jolt in surprise at the question.

“Uh… yeah,” he said, deciding that hiding things wasn’t how he wanted this to start. She was too important for him to lie to. “Once,” he added.

“Then you’ll know what to do?” she asked, the lightest quiver in her voice.

Ares smiled at her in a way that made her shudder. His hand slipped between her pressed legs and tenderly squeezed the soft underside of her thigh. Her breath hitched and her belly jolted. “I do.” He said that in such a way that it was impossible to doubt him.

He parked on the outskirts of the jungle. The lights of the city sparkled and the fireworks boomed in the skies. He grabbed her hand and they ran into the foliage. When they came upon a small grove of trees, her toned arms wrapped around his neck and her dark lips pressed against his.

He pulled away from her. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. His arms held her firmly against him. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

Her piercing blue eyes looked at his with untainted honesty. “I won’t,” she said. “I want you. Too kriffing much.”

His smile was relaxed and his eyes sparkled in relieved delight. “Ok,” he said. He kissed her tenderly. “You’ll tell me if you change your mind,” he whispered.

And with that being said, her hand dug at his upper layer with a feverish speed and clumsiness. His own hands went to the belt around her waist to unhook it. He tried to figure out the contraption of her dress without losing his façade of confidence. She had completely discarded his over and undertunic and her hands roamed on his muscled torso, with particular fascination to the small patch of black chest hair.

“There’s hair here too?” she asked.

“I’m a mammal. There’s hair everywhere,” he responded, then paused, conscious and suddenly mortified. “…Sorry about that.”

“No, no,” she said, smiling and pressing their foreheads together. “I like it.” _Sexier words have never been spoken_ , Ares thought.

“Good,” he said. “Lift your arms.”

“That’s not how you take the dress off,” she said.

He gave her a deadpan look. “I’ve seen droid programming is less complex than your dress.”

She rolled her eyes and showed him the zip on the side. He kissed her neck to distract her from that intermission as he undid the dress. She was tense and thrilled simultaneously. Her blood rushed into her lekku at the thought of being so exposed for the first time. At the thought of any of this, really.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he whispered. She nodded, nervous and trying to hide it, but he saw it. Ares bumped his nose against hers, mouths shivers from one another. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are when you’re nervous?” he asked, before kissing her mouth, easing her nerves.

Onderon’s three moons brightened the sky and illuminated their bodies for one another. They lay on a bed of thick grass, their bellies pressed together, a mess of muscled arms, their scents mingling. His right hand teased below, whilst his mouth kissed her heated lekku. She moaned in ecstasy and begged for him. He drew away and Ahsoka was ready to force-choke him for that until she realised he was wordlessly strapping on a condom. When he finally indulged her, she screamed his name in pleasure.

A tangle of limbs, the two lovers lay on their backs staring up at the stars. Her thumb traced the scars and wounds on his chest, particularly fascinated by the mortal wound left by her master’s blade.

“Wow, I’m really bad at friend-zoning,” said Ares, making both of them chuckle.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I thought it was quite productive.”

“Oh, did you?” he said, laughingly. She told him about the dream that she had and why she had been acting strangely lately. He found the whole ordeal very funny. “So, what you’re telling me is that I wing-maned myself?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Well, as they say, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,” he said. “So wait… this whole time you were a fiery horny mess, whilst I was running around jealous and spitting venom at the thought of you and Bonterri?”

“Do you feel how dumb you were now?” she asked, grinning.

He whistled. “No wonder I needed to wingman myself.” He pressed his lips to a blue stripe of one of her montrals. “We’ll have to go back. Back to Coruscant. With our little secret.”

She stretched out and pressed him closer, possessively, like a cat sleepily hugs a toy. “Not yet though,” she said. “Not now.”

Ares stared at the night sky above them. Right now, in this precise moment, he was the happiest he’d been in a very, very long time. She was there, warm and loving, right next to him, tangled with him. Ahsoka was using his bicep as a head rest, whispering sweet things into his ear. This was nice. This was more than nice.

“Did you know that General Mundi is married… to multiple women… in public and he has a seat on the council? The man has figured out how to rig the system.” Ares asked. “I learnt this the other day and it still baffles me.”

She knew what he was trying to do – justify her decision to the Jedi Council. It had been what she’d been doing since she realised that she had feelings for him. “Yeah, on grounds that his species is almost extinct. I can’t claim that excuse,” she said with a sigh.

“How generous of him to donate spawn, even if in the long run the logic is flawed,” he said.

“How so?” she asked.

“Force-sensitives typically pass on force-sensitivity to their offspring. Mundi and his wives would be making more of the species, sure, but then they would be taken into the Temple and made into celibate Jedi who can’t have kids,” said Ares.

“Hm, never thought of that,” she said. “But then, the Council could allow them to reproduce as well.”

“Did you hear yourself? ‘Allow them to reproduce’. How does that conversation go?” said Ares, laughing. “’Master Jedi, can I know the opposite gender, carnally?’ ‘No’ ‘Ok. If you say so’.”

“You really need to work on your pillow talk,” she said.

“It’s not pillow talk,” he corrected and gestured to their jungle surroundings. “It’s grass talk.”

“Sounds like it,” she said. She placed her chin on his chest and looked at him strangely. “You okay?”

Ares smirked at the absurdity of that word. “Quite. You?”

“Yeah. I just… I have this horrible feeling that the whole world is about to come crashing down now,” said Ahsoka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I always felt guilty for slow burning you guys for so long… does that make up for it?
> 
> Also, did I split Onderon into two chapters just to give them this justice? Yes, and I’m not ashamed of it.
> 
> Please REVIEW.


	15. Deaf Justice

#  **Chapter 15 – Deaf Justice**

Ares stopped breathing. A single noise would cost them the entire mission.

He was on-board his sister’s new flagship, _The War God,_ lying belly down in the ventilation shaft above the conference room _._ Next to him, Tech silenced his data-absorbing helmet. Opposite him, Commander Cody and Sergeant Hunter stilled themselves, breathing quietly. The two other members of the Bad Batch Squad were guarding their ship. Wrecker wasn’t trusted to be quiet.

When Kenobi caught of whiff of Pallas’ position, he gave his commander and captain the near impossible task of finding out the Separatist’s next move. Cody approached the brothers that specialised in near-impossible missions – clone force 99. Their brief was simple: get onto the enemy ship, steal their battleplans and get out without the Separatists knowing they had been there. So much as a suspicion of their presence or a flicker on a corridor camera or a single damaged droid would jeopardise them.

Ares saw his sister come in. With her was the Viceroy of the Trade Federation, Nute Gunray and General Grievous. Cody made a visual sign. _Steady. Stay quiet. Stay invisible. We’re outmatched._

 _I know_ , Ares responded by planting the words in Cody’s mind with the force.

“This is madness!” Gunray exclaimed. “The cost! Have you ever dreamed about such a cost!?”

“War is costly, viceroy,” Grievous said.

“The Trade Federation cannot bear such a burden! A mass invasion of the entire Outer Rim!?” said Gunray.

“Not the entire Outer Rim,” said Pallas, calmly. “Just the neutral worlds. We can start little.” She entered her code into the main holo-computer in the room and brought up the plans of the proposed invasion. Ares watched her fingers to see her password. _Wodin’s birthday_ , he realised, _how predictable, sis_. “Annuit and Saluecami are close enough to our territories for our forces to be easily reinforceable. And you can rest your concerns about carrying the burden. The Techno Union and the Banking Clan have already promised generous loans to the Confederacy for this enterprise.”

Ares watched Grievous turn sharply. Pallas had lied, though Nute Gunray didn’t seem to have caught the tell.

“Really?” Gunray asked, surprised. “Both of them?”

“Yes,” Pallas said with a smile. “Don’t you want a share of the profits? This initiative will pour the gold into your coffers. The Republic will be so thinly stretched they’ll have to recruit civilian soldiers and local militia. The war will be won!”

“Very well. I’ll fund you 2 million droids,” said the Viceroy.

“For Annuit and Saluecami,” clarified Pallas.

“Yes,” said Nute Gunray, gruffly. He left the room then, followed by his bodyguards.

“What are you doing!?” Grievous roared at Pallas. His menacing, skeletal frame towering over her. “He’ll know that the Banking Clan and Techno Union have not made any such promises! He’s likely on his way to check now!”

“It’s called faking it, till you make it,” Pallas said and smirked at the cyborg, confidently. She went to the door and popped her head out to see if the viceroy was walking down the corridor to his rooms – he was. “Which is why we’re going to ask them now. It takes about ten minutes for him to get from here to his quarters. I’ll wager that I can convince both the Techno Union and the Banking Clan to fund the necessary droids for phases 2 and 3 before he can call them.” She leaned over and punched in the communication codes of the Techno Union.

“You overestimate your abilities, young one,” Grievous rasped.

“I learned from you, general,” said Pallas. _She far too chipper,_ thought Ares disgruntled.

The holographic form of Wat Tambor appeared before her. “Greetings, generals. What can I do for you?” The alien’s beady, glass eyes were cautious of being called so out of the blue. In his experience, late night calls often entailed haggling. 

“My lord, old friend, it is a pleasure to see you again,” said Pallas amicably. “General Grievous and I come to ask for your aid. We seek to bring the Republic to its knees with a siege of the neutral worlds of the Outer Rim, but we need the funds from your bank.”

Wat Tambor was sceptical. “How much?”

Pallas looked at Grievous. “2 million units,” she said.

“And the necessary transportations and frigates,” added Grievous.

“That is a large sum,” he said.

Pallas feigned worry. Ares rolled his eyes at her acting. “Oh no, my lord. Is that sum too large for your banks? I realise these are tight times. I’m so sorry for that inconvenience. The Trade Federation have already pledged their share for the first phase of the sieges, so I didn’t think it would be a problem for you,” said Pallas.

Tambor’s wounded pride blistered. He adjusted his chest dial. “2 million units are not too large a sum for my banks! Normally there is a lengthy grant system in place for such requests, but I will be sure to speed up the process.”

“Thank you, my lord. We’ll send you the paperwork immediately,” said Pallas and ended the call. “That was easy,” she said and gave Grievous a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself. Your time is running out,” said Grievous, seconds before the Banking Clan’s Council of Five appeared on the hologram.

“Generals Grievous and Pallas, to what do we owe this unexpected call?” asked the head banker.

“Gentlemen, we would like to offer you a unique business opportunity,” said Pallas with a different kind of energy than before. “I know the Republic has recently taken out a massive loan from your banks and so whilst I know you are weary of spending more, I am conscious that you need a quick return profit. General Grievous and I will be leading a mass invasion of the Outer Rim’s neutral worlds. They are undefended and ripe for the picking. Of course, I don’t need to tell you about the profit opportunities from such a venture. Unchartered territories will fall into the grasp of the Confederacy and the Corporate Council with untapped clients. The Trade Federation and Techno Union have already pledged their funds for this cause. Will you join us?”

“How much?” asked one of the bankers. The whispers of interest riffled through the ranks of the Council of Five.

“2 million units… and they’ll need transportation,” said Pallas.

“We’ll need to vote… but rest assured, general, we would be happy to invest into such a venture,” said the leader of the Five. “Send us the formal proposal.” The hologram ended. There was silence for a moment.

“I should rob a bank,” said Pallas with a smug look. “…Oh wait.”

Grievous growled “Overconfidence is a weakness,” said Grievous, rolling his eyes.

“I know, but nonconfidence is a bigger weakness,” replied Pallas.

With an annoyed raspy roar, Grievous clucked out of the room. Pallas followed him with a smirk and all their bodyguard droids went with the pair of generals.

“6 million new droids in less than 10 minutes. Does your sister ever stop being a piece of work?” asked Cody.

“It’s been 18 years… no sign of stopping,” replied Ares.

“Your move, kid,” Hunter said, as Tech passed to Ares a flash stick.

Ares reached out with the force to grab it, moved it through the bars of the ventilation shaft and floated it to the main hologram computer. A green light showed that it was properly inserted. Ares then used the force to press the copy function and his sister’s security code. A second green light appeared showing the process was complete. He floated the flash stick back to them and gripped it firmly in his fist.

“Smooth,” said Cody. Ares gave the flash stick to Tech. “Now, let’s get out of here... Quietly.”

The four of them began commando crawling through the ventilation system to their secretly docked ship. Currently latched on the outer wall of the Providence-class destroyer and equipped with a cloaking device, the Bad Batch’s ship, _The Havoc Marauder_ , was quietly wating for them to complete the mission. 

“Here’s the exit hatch,” whispered Tech.

“Wait,” Hunter hissed at him. He felt around, using his altered abilities to sense any noise or incoming clankers. “Clear. Let’s go.”

“Better put the helmet on, captain,” Cody said to Ares. The young captain had been equipped with clone armour for this mission to withstand the pressure of outer space. Ares sighed and obeyed the command.

Tech opened the hatch and they were sucked out into the darkness. For a second the four of them floated there, but then a mouth enveloped them, and they landed inside the cloaked ship, piloted by Crosshair. In the main hanger of the ship, Wrecker and CL-Y welcomed them back.

“Welcome back, lads!” bellowed Wrecker. “Did you get it?”

“Yeah, we got it,” said Ares. His droid was making happy beeps at seeing him. “We can get out of here now. Set a course for Coruscant. You can drop me off there. General Kenobi wanted this information to go directly to the Jedi Council.”

[][][]

“You have the plans?” asked Windu as the captain stepped out of his shuttle, followed by his astromech droid.

A small welcome party had gathered to see him return from his perilous mission with the critical information. It consisted of Windu, Plo Koon, Skywalker and Ahsoka, who was where she was supposed to be which was by her master’s side. Ares made no eye contact with her. Instead, he patted his droid’s head and she showed the Jedi the flash drive from the arms of her mechanical body.

“Yeah, I got it,” said Ares.

Windu took the disk from the droid. “For safe keeping,” he clarified. _Still don’t trust me, do you, Windy?_ thought Ares, suppressing an eye roll.

“We’re having a briefing in two hours. You may present your findings then,” said Plo Koon. He and Windu walked away.

“Some welcome,” muttered Ares, watching the retreating forms of the two masters. “No hello, no goodbye.”

“You get used to it,” said Anakin, another victim of the Council’s distrust.

“We did just come out of a funeral,” said Ahsoka.

“The bombing?” asked Ares. He’d heard about that mess in the daily briefing. “Was the bomber caught?”

“Yeah, we caught her. She’s awaiting her trial,” said Anakin.

“Weren’t you supposed to be on Cato Neimodia? Was there no one else that could have handled this?” said Ares.

“Apparently not,” said Ahsoka.

“Well, heroes, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go the third floor and shower before I have to give a presentation to some very old, very unattractive cult monks,” said Ares, smirking. “No offence.”

“Very funny, captain,” said Skywalker and rolled his eyes. Ahsoka watched her master’s reaction carefully.

He made his way to the third-floor shower rooms. Previously, Ares had discovered it was the only one that had a good-sized ventilation shaft, which was useful if in need of a quick escape. Unfortunately, it was only large enough for very slim, very petite creatures to climb through. Ares locked the door behind him, turned the shower on and started to take his clothes off. Before he knew it, someone had dropped from the ceiling.

“Ambushed in the shower,” said Ares, grinning at the Togruta. “You work fast, pervert.”

She gave him a deadly look. “Could you be any less conspicuous with your code phrases?” asked Ahsoka, as she put the ventilation shaft’s cage back into place.

“You’re paranoid,” said Ares, as he stripped off his under-shirt. “He doesn’t suspect anything.”

She watched him take the rest of his clothes off. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered and reached around his neck to pull him closer. Their lips met and he melted in her embrace. His hand slipped up to the soft flesh where her skin met her lekku. Her head rolled back, her eyes closed, and her mouth moaned. He planted a kiss on her mouth to muffle the sweet sound.

“If you corner me in the shower, I won’t have anywhere left to slip away,” he whispered, and stepped into the jet of water.

“Ares, we have a briefing in two hours,” said Ahsoka.

“Exactly,” he replied. “Two whole hours. Imagine what we could do with that time.”

“Tease,” she said and started to discard her own clothes to join him in the hot steam. 

It had been weeks since they last saw one another, only a few months since they’d returned from Onderon. The happiest months of Ares’ life. Their relationship survived on sideway glances and stolen secret kisses. Not a lasting solution, they both knew, but what was one to do? Besides, right now, they were just teenagers having fun, playing at love. Belly butterflies and teenage yearnings. ‘Maybe things would be different after the war’ was the line Ahsoka whispered to him. _But things weren’t different before the war_ , Ares thought privately in response.

Ares had been watching Skywalker and the senator’s relationship with a newfound curiosity. He noticed that their liaisons were significantly easier because the senator had a home to which Skywalker often escaped to. Their problem was that both lived in the dorms of a Temple that was rigged with holo-cameras everywhere except a few corners, which they had both memorised. The idea to get a place in the metropolis had occurred to the captain. However, it seemed unlikely that the Jedi Council would allow him to move out anywhere for fear of assassins or secret Separatist meetings.

For now, he’d need to live under the watchful eye of the Council and their affair had to thrive in ventilation shafts and strategic shower rooms.

Amongst the myriad of his own problems, Ares had to face the additional emotional burden of Kenobi’s grief. Duchess Satine had been murdered by Maul before Obi-Wan’s very eyes. Though he would not let it stand in the way of his Jedi duties, Ares knew that his mentor was… not himself. Sadness was leeching off the Jedi, he slept poorly, he forgot things, he was disorientated in battle. Ares felt his strength drain from shouldering some of the general’s responsibilities.

In short, Ares had a lot of problems.

“Don’t think about it now,” Ahsoka whispered to him, sensing the troubled direction of his thoughts. He smiled and obeyed his commander.

[][][]

Their meeting consisted of the entire Jedi Council, with Kenobi on the hologram, Skywalker, Ahsoka and a few other military officers.

“Captain Ares, what have you found?” Mundi prompted Ares to begin.

Ares patted CL-Y’s head to show the council the research. “We found the Confederacy’s plans for a massive invasion of the Outer Rim’s neutral worlds. Grievous and Pallas have just secured loans for the purchase of 6 million droids from the Trade Federation, Banking Clan and Techno Union and they are masterminding this attack together,” said Ares. He pressed the control panel of the hologram. “As far as we know, there are three phases to the invasion. They will simultaneously attack the Annuit system here and Saluecami.”

“So far out of our way,” said Windu.

“Unfortunately, that is the plan. The boys and I heard Pallas’ and Grievous’ conversation. They plan to stretch and bleed us dry,” said Ares. “The second phase—”

But they were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Tarkin, the newly promoted Admiral. “Excuse me, Master Jedi.”

“Yes, Admiral,” said Windu.

“Commander Tano, your presence is requested by prisoner Leta Turmond,” said Tarkin. All eyes fell on Ahsoka.

“The prisoner from the hanger bombing?” said Ahsoka, confused.

“Why is she asking for Ahsoka?” asked Skywalker.

“Not exactly sure, but Commander Tano is the only person the prisoner will speak to,” said Tarkin. Ares narrowed his eyes. No incident with a happy ending ever began with such a sentence.

“I’ll report back with whatever I find out,” Ahsoka promised the Council.

“Don’t speak to her without a witness present!” Ares’ voice came out in a yelp. All eyes present fell on him. “Or at least a camera. It’s just… legally better that way. If she accuses you of anything, you have a witness to testify against her in a law court.” The strange looks remained on him. “What? I’m the son of a statesman. I was trained how to protect myself… and others… in court.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Ahsoka and left the meeting.

Ares was urged on to continue debriefing them of his findings. Felucia, Cato Neimodia, Mygeeto, Anaxes, Kashyyk and Utapau were the main targets the Separatists would hit. The battle strategies were not specific, but the Confederate targets and dates were clear. With his part done, Ares watched the Jedi strategize their response.

The meeting lasted for hours, until another call interrupted them. It was Commander Fox of the Coruscant guard. He gave them grave news. “Generals, Commander Tano has been detained. We have evidence of her killing the prisoner Leta Turmond.”

[][][]

“I said ‘my padawan is in there’. Now step aside,” Skywalker growled, voice short and his temper growing ever shorter. Ares stood beside him feeling equally annoyed by the prison guard, but instead choosing to stay quiet and observant.

It seemed impossible for Ahsoka to have done something so… malevolent. She had always been the paragon of moral goodness. How many times had Ares decided upon darkness, only to be pulled into doing the right thing by her? Then again, the Jedi always counciled against attachment. Could their affair have turned her to the dark side? _No_ , he shook his head, he would have known, felt something, sensed it. If anyone could sense the dark side, it would be him and he had sensed none in her. That perhaps gave him some comfort. Besides, he didn’t have any evidence, save for the apparent.

“General Skywalker, Admiral Tarkin has ordered that no one be allowed in there,” said Commander Fox.

A tight fist shook by Skywalker’s side. “I don’t care what she’s accused of. Let… me… in!” Skywalker demanded.

The ray shields went up and clone-guards with shockers stepped forward. “Skywalker…” Ares murmured warningly, keeping his eyes on the guards.

“Sorry sir,” said Commander Fox. “The Admiral’s orders stand. This is now a military operation and under his jurisdiction.”

Skywalker’s glare could have cut through glass. He stomped out of the prison welcome centre with fury. “She needs to be given a fair trial!” he roared out his frustration to the young captain. “If only I could speak to her!”

“Something tells me you won’t be given that opportunity,” said Ares. Anakin fixed his deadly glare at the captain. “Skywalker, Ahsoka needs your help much more than she needs to talk to you.”

“I’m trying to find out her story!” Skywalker barked.

“From her?” asked Ares, telling himself to be patient with the Knight. “If she’s guilty, she won’t tell you the truth. If she’s innocent, she wouldn’t know what happened. The truth must be found elsewhere, Skywalker.”

“She’s not guilty! And I am not abandoning her!” Skywalker roared at the captain.

“Neither am I,” said Ares. “But when in your memory has a military court verdict ever been… in the accused’s favour?”

Skywalker was obstinate. “Ahsoka is a Jedi. She should be judged by the Jedi, not the military court! This should be an internal affair! The Jedi Council wouldn’t allow any harm to come to her.”

Skywalker was a man who walked around the world safe in the knowledge that because he had a lightsabre on his belt, he was granted privilege and respect. That privilege and respect seemed to end at the prison. It boiled Skywalker’s blood to realise that. For the first time in a very long time, Anakin Skywalker felt like a muted little slave boy on Tatooine.

“They will let harm come if there is no proof of her innocence,” said Ares. “Our words and report of her character will not be taken seriously in any court, Jedi or military!”

Skywalker didn’t answer. His rage was smouldering. “Find evidence then. Don’t get caught. I’ll go see the Council,” said Skywalker.

“Sounds like a plan,” said Ares, painfully aware that all that Skywalker had given him was his blessing and he doubted it would hold up well if the council tried Ares for overstepping lines. At the very least, the stomping, raging, unsubtle Jedi Knight was one less problem for Ares to deal with.

The first place to snoop involved taking the 10 steps back into the prison welcome centre. Upon seeing him return, the guards ignited their shockers again. Ares put his hands up. “Easy there, boys. I come without the angry general. I just want to ask Commander Fox a question.” They kept their weapons on and escorted captain back to their commander. “Commander Fox, I won’t take up much of your time. I understand that I can’t see the prisoner, but I just have one query. What evidence do you have for the detainment of Commander Tano?”

Fox crossed his arms. “Well, there’s a dead, strangled corpse in Leta Turmond’s cell. They were alone in here for a few minutes. We have the recording of Commander Tano strangling her,” said Fox.

“How was this recording made?” asked Ares. “… and can I see it?”

“There are cameras in all the cells,” said Fox, taking out the hologram. There was the woman that Ares presumed to be the bomber and Ahsoka waving her hands in the air. He didn’t have a good enough look of the incident before the commander retrieved the hologram. “Curiously, the sound was turned off – likely by Commander Tano. Anything else for you, captain?”

“Yeah, did Commander Tano not take anyone else into the cell with her as a witness?” asked Ares. He had specifically warned her about this.

“Commander Tano asked about cameras, which we confirmed. She also asked that if I would accompany her as a witness, but the prisoner demanded to speak only to Commander Tano,” said Fox. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have other things to attend to, captain.”

“Just one last thing and then I’ll go, I promise,” said Ares, considering his options. Slyly, he twisted his wrist. “You will give me a copy of that recording.” The possibility that Fox might reject if he asked without the use of force-tricks was too dear.

“I… will give you a copy of this recording,” said Fox and immediately began making a copy. None of the other clones seemed to notice. Ares took the holotransmitter and left the prison centre.

CL-Y was flying for him in his red starfighter, giving him time to watch the recording. _It sure looked like Ahsoka was strangling the prisoner_ , thought Ares as he watched and re-watched the recording a few hundred times on in his journey back to the Jedi Temple. However, there were things that jumped out to a person with an obsession. At 1:04 Ahsoka broke eye-contact to look around the cell with helplessness and then again at 1:10 and 1:13. Her hands were also not clutched, as was typical for a force-strangulation. Additionally, her facial expression was that of terror, not sadistic pleasure or anger.

If Ahsoka was strangling the prisoner, she was certainly doing it clumsily and Ahsoka was not a clumsy person. Ares breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in his seat. He had reserved his feelings and judgement until he had all the facts with him. _Think critically!_ Wodin’s favourite words had been ringing through his brain since the message about Ahsoka’s detainment had been received. Though he doubted his observations about the subtleties in her facial expression would hold up in court, they at least proved to him that she was innocent. But then… who did kill the bomber?

Ares knew that for a talented force-user a force choke could be done from a great distance and there were thousands of talented force-users on Coruscant. Someone was trying to set Ahsoka up.

_But where even to start looking for evidence?_

Just as his thought process came to its conclusion, his commlink buzzed. It was the Coruscant security channel. “Attention all units! Code Red! Suspect has killed three clones! If you see the target, shoot to kill!” Commander Fox’s enraged voice rung from Ares’ wrist.

“CL-Y, turn back. Bring us back to the prison!” Ares commanded, hurriedly. The droid beeped and followed the orders.

Another message came through shortly. “Amend order. Shoot to stun. General Skywalker in pursuit of prisoner!”

Ares roared out in frustration. “Damn you, Skywalker. Doesn’t he see that he and his pursuit is not what Ahsoka needs right now!? Moron!” he shouted inside the cockpit of his fighter. “Land on that platform, CL-Y! Stay here. Wait for orders _from me_.”

Ares jumped out of the cockpit. The alarms were pounding and blaring, and troopers were rushing around. Orders were buzzing on Ahsoka’s last seen location. No one even noticed Ares sneak into the command centre of the prison. There was only one clone officer on duty. Every spare clone trooper was pursuing Ahsoka, trying to intervene before she couldn’t escape to the underworld.

The young man dodged out of sight as a few medical officers were bringing out bodies on stretchers. Some were moving and groaning in pain, but some were not. _Witnesses_ , Ares thought immediately.

Ares pressed himself against a wall. He thought hard about what he was about to do. Unauthorized access to prison computers during a code red situation was sedition. If he were caught, the punishment would be severe. He doubted Skywalker would be able to bail him out. He’d find himself in a cell with unknown forces conspiring to frame him. A cell in which he would be unable to exact vengeance against his father for.

 _Alright, Ares, five seconds of stupid. Be stupid for five seconds and then you won’t have to make that decision._ “You need to help your brothers capture Commander Tano,” said Ares, focusing on the clone’s mind.

“I need to help my brothers capture Commander Tano,” said the clone, took his blaster and ran off, leaving his station unattended.

Ares snuck inside. In a prison, surely the corridors would have footage surveillance as well as the cells. The camera computers were easy enough to find and access. Ares searched the footage of Ahsoka’s cell and her moment of escape. She escaped with a key-card that had been left on the floor of her cell and then he watched her run to the exit of the cell where the clone guards had already been slaughtered. Her lightsabres were lying on the ground, waiting for her to collect. At an unfortunate moment, Commander Fox walked in to see the carnage of his brothers and started firing at the apparently obvious killer.

Ares reversed the recordings back to the moment the troopers were killed. A cloaked, masked figure had entered the room through, of all things, some ventilation shafts and cut down the troopers with a blue lightsabre. They must have been the clones the medics were carrying out of the prison earlier. He noticed that some of those troopers were still alive after the figure cut them down. Ares scratched their identifying numbers onto his wrist with a nearby pen in haste. They would make excellent witnesses in Ahsoka’s defence once they recovered. He then watched the figure break into the command centre room that he was currently standing in and take Ahsoka’s lightsabres out, dropping them on the ground for Ahsoka to find, and a key-card that was levitated with the force outside of Ahsoka’s cell for her to find a few moments later. The figure was unrecognisable, but this footage was evidence of Ahsoka being set up. 

He downloaded a copy of that footage onto the holotransmitter that Commander Fox had given him earlier.

He heard footsteps and hid under the desks of the command station. It was Commander Fox and two other clones.

“She’s escaped to the lower levels!” Fox growled angrily. “Skywalker was pursuing her. Of course, she escaped. I bet he let her go.” _Not good,_ thought Ares. He couldn’t use a force trick on all three of them. How was he supposed to get out of this one? It’s all well and good to have evidence, but what good was it if you couldn’t deliver it to the proper channels? “Hang on… where’s Nox? There’s supposed to be an officer on deck at all times! Go find him!”

Two of the clones that came with Fox ran out. _That was more like it_ , thought Ares. “There’s something you need to check on that computer,” said Ares, focusing on the force.

“There’s something I need to check on that computer,” said Commander Fox and turned his back on Ares to look at the computer. No doubt in a few moments he would wonder what it was he needed on that computer, but by then Ares would have silently slunk away, out of the command centre and into the darkness.

[][][]

A council meeting had gathered later that evening for Tarkin to report his findings to the Jedi Council. From the corner of the chamber, Skywalker and Ares watched the Admiral give his statement.

“After further investigation, there can be little doubt that the clone officers murdered in the escape were killed by none other than Ahsoka Tano herself,” said Tarkin. Ares scoffed. _What ‘further’ investigation? Into the recesses of his imagination?_ He gripped his holotransmitter tightly in his fist to assure himself of its solidness. “She used a Jedi mind trick to convince the clone to open the door and then proceeded to cut him down along with five other clones alongside.”

“I… do not believe Ahsoka could have fallen so far,” Plo Koon said.

“The beliefs of the Jedi Council are irrelevant,” said Tarkin, anger sparking in his eyes. _Nice stratergy, Tarkin. Make the bosses angry,_ Ares thought. “We deal strictly in facts and evidence! And the evidence points to Ahsoka Tano being guilty of the attack on the Jedi Temple and murder of the Republic officers!” _Oh, you wait. You’re gonna love it when this tape shows up in court,_ thought Ares, a perverse sense of glee bubbling inside him. There was just something about that admiral that begged to be slapped. “This is sedition!” Then his hologram disappeared.

“Skywalker, was there no way to stop your padawan before she escaped?” asked Mundi.

“No, Master Mundi,” admitted Skywalker.

“The council believes that Ahsoka may be guilty of the crime. Still believe they are wrong, do you, hm?” asked Yoda, a sudden unforeseen accusative look in the old master.

Skywalker opened his mouth to give a defence, but Ares cut him off. _Back off, Skywalker. This is my moment._

“Yes, generals. They are,” said Ares. He saw Kenobi’s glare burning through the back of his head. The old master prepared himself for another one of his captain’s misbehaviours. “I have evidence that Ahsoka is not guilty and that she’s being set up.” He presented them with his holotransmitter. “I’ll begin with the hardest evidence. I don’t want to bore the council with the details of innocence. I know they have little care for those.” That last remark made all the Jedi, save Skywalker, give him insulted glares. “Here is the footage from the prison’s welcome centre corridor where a cloaked, masked figure kills the guards, leaves Ahsoka’s lightsabres in clear view and sends a security key card to Ahsoka’s prison cell with the use of the force. Then there’s footage of Ahsoka running out, framed for the crime she did not commit. There’s more, but I’ll leave that for the hearing. My point is she is being framed.”

Skywalker beamed at the captain and looked at the council with hope.

“It could be an accomplice,” said Mundi. “Who’s to say that Ahsoka didn’t act alone in this plot?”

“How did you come by this footage?” Windu asked Ares.

“Does it matter?” asked Ares.

“Yes. If we are to use this in a trial, we have to report where our sources have come from,” said Windu.

“You don’t want to be accused of being Ahsoka’s accomplice. This evidence has conveniently played into your hands. Who is to say that you were not the cloaked, masked figure?” said General Koth. “A hologram can be faked.”

“The reason that it wasn’t me was because I have alibis!” Ares almost shouted. “I was giving the big presentation about the Confederacy’s plan to besiege the Outer Rim. I am unable to be in two places at once.”

“There’s no need to take that tone, captain,” said Windu. Ares could have breathed fire. A tingling spark of electricity itched in his fist, fuelled by his anger. Luckily, Skywalker spoke before Ares had the chance to unleash his wrath.

“I asked Captain Ares to gather evidence of what really happened, discreetly,” said Skywalker. “Captain Ares’ actions are my responsibility.”

“That’s all well and good, Skywalker, but Captain Ares still has to explain to us where he got his footage,” said Luminara.

The tentative, reassuring nod from Skywalker made Ares exhale. “I took this from the prison computers. I snuck into prison and checked the computers. I made a copy of the recording and brought it here,” he confessed. As soon as he did, he couldn’t think of a time when he had made a bigger mistake. The air became much more hostile.

“This is highly… irregular,” said Mundi, choosing the word carefully.

“Well, sometimes the law obstructs the pursuits of justice. Will you accuse me for that?” Ares replied. 

“The law is justice,” said Windu. “You’ve violated Republic law.”

“Does that really matter? You are focusing on the wrong issue here. It’s proof that Ahsoka is innocent!” Skywalker exclaimed. “What does it matter what rules have been broken! We can go right now to the prison computers and check that the footage the captain has brought us matches. Justice and truth have prevailed!”

“Partially,” advised Mundi. “There’s still the charge of the bombing and the murder of Leta Turmond, for which there is no evidence.”

“Indeed,” said Windu. “And who murdered those clones?”

The boy came to the sudden and unexpected realisation that this was all politics for them. Justice had become an inconvenience in this case. The Senate, the public and the courts would be asking the Jedi questions and they couldn’t afford to shrug their shoulders and say that they didn’t know. Or worse, absolve a viable scapegoat. Yes, he had brought proof of innocence, but he had not brought any alternative choices of perpetrator. What was the sacrifice of one young Jedi for the sake of a thousand? Were all Jedi not supposed to be selfless after-all?

Ares spoke through gritted teeth. “That will become abundantly clear when you stop focusing on the innocent person in this case and start pursuing the true culprit,” he replied to Windu with gritted teeth. 

“That is what we are trying to find out,” said Plo Koon.

“Captain Ares’ attachment to Padawan Tano is well known to the council,” said Mundi. “Biased is his evidence.” The young man had never felt such rage in his life.

“Clouded, are the captain’s feelings from us,” said Yoda. “See them clearly, I cannot.”

“Then that’s a problem with your connection to the force, rather than a problem with me!” Ares snarled at them. “You know, I hope Ahsoka gets tried in a military court, where, as Tarkin puts it, evidence and facts are prized and the foolish mystics and sloppy attempts at politics of the Jedi do not cloud what is literally in front of you. I am out of here!” He stormed out, ignoring the shouting orders of Kenobi to return and apologize.

[][][]

He marched all the way to the dorms. A mind to quit, to run away, to pack up his bags and go live in exile consumed him. He wished there was something in here that he could break. Curse the Jedi for never recognising the need to release anger! He ignited his lightsabre and slammed it against every surface of the room. The walls glowed with the glowing orange cuts of his lightsabre’s damage.

“Redecorating?” Anakin asked. He stood in the doorway. “You scared your droid.” CL-Y stood beside Skywalker, making concerned beeps.

“Don’t you start,” Ares snarled at him. “What do you want?”

“You certainly like giving the Council a show,” said Skywalker. “One lesson I always taught Ahsoka, but Obi-Wan couldn’t teach you, was the correct way to go around the Jedi Council. Screaming that they’re not connected with the Force, foolish mystics and bad politicians and then stomping out like a temperamental child is not one such way.”

“No,” said Ares with an eye roll. “Of all the Jedi in the order, I got the one who kisses the ground the Council walk on.” Even as he said those words, he felt guilty. There was much he felt grateful to Obi-Wan for, but there was also so much frustration… so much anger.

“I understand, more than you realise,” said Skywalker. “The Council was… not as happy to receive your evidence as I would have thought they would be, but we can’t think about that now.”

“What do you want, Skywalker?” said Ares.

“Ahsoka needs us. We need to find her and bring her home so that her innocence can be proven. Plo Koon and I have been dispatched to bring her home. The evidence that you have provided _will_ be used. I have the Council’s assurance,” said Skywalker. “Help me bring her home.”

“No,” said Ares. “Unlike the rest of you, my feelings are not clouded. If you could just pause for a few minutes and think about everything, you would see that hunting her is not the answer!”

“Ares, please. With your help, this can end a lot sooner,” said Skywalker.

“I would never ask you to do something that contradicted your sense of right and wrong. Do not ask it of me!” said Ares with finality.

Seeing the young captain’s stubbornness and giving into his own frustrations, Skywalker gave up the fight. “Fine then,” said Skywalker. “Ahsoka needs us, needs you, right now and she’s going to be severely let down because you’re up here brooding!” Skywalker slammed the door behind him.

[][][]

Ares dropped his plan for running away. He might have known that Skywalker’s foresight might have been misplaced, but his words rang true. Ahsoka did need him. He had gone so far with helping her, he could at least finish the job. He sat down in the burned and charred room to meditate.

 _What should I do? What is the right course of action? The Jedi have failed. The Jedi know little of justice. Where is she? Help me!_ He called out into the dark void. Without a master of darkness, it was difficult to access his own powers. It took hours of begging, pleading, threatening, and bargaining with the void for it to reveal a vision.

It was the bottom floors of Coruscant’s underworld. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say the bottommost floor of Coruscant, if such a thing existed. He saw Ahsoka with… Ventress? They were prowling around together. He tuned into the Force to listen to their conversation. They both seemed to sense his presence as they looked around. They looked directly at him, through him even, but their eyes saw nothing. They continued down their paths.

“Nice place you got here,” said Ahsoka. It boggled Ares’ mind how much had happened since the last time he had seen her and yet it had barely been two days. 

“Not everyone on Coruscant can afford to live in a luxurious temple on the surface,” drawled Ventress.

“I guess I’ll have to get used to that,” said Ahsoka. She kneeled down under a phonebooth and began tampering with the wires.

“Adding another criminal act to your record?” asked Ventress.

“I don’t want them to be able to trace it,” said Ahsoka. “Barriss, it’s me!” Personally, Ares was a little stung that her go-to was Barriss Offee, but whatever.

“So good to see you, Ahsoka. Are you ok?” asked the Barriss, concerned.

“Yeah. I’m ok. If you consider Anakin, Ares, and about 100 clones on my tail a good place to be in,” said Ahsoka, looking over her shoulder. _She thought he was in the hunting party? Delightful._ Then again, it’s not like she knew what he was doing.

“You were almost captured?” asked Barriss. Her voice hit a high note when she said the word ‘captured’ that struck Ares as… odd.

“Once or twice,” Ahsoka shrugged.

“Where are you?” asked Barriss. _Why would you need to know?_ Ares shook his head. He should stop being salty.

“I can’t say, Barriss,” Ahsoka said.

“I believe I found a clue,” said Barriss. _Clue to what? The bombing was a week ago. The clone murder clues were in the prison._ “We don’t have much time Ahsoka. Where are you?”

Barriss’ persistence seemed to have persuaded Ahsoka. “I’m on level 1312.”

“Three levels up there seems to be an abandoned warehouse where they used to build munitions that Leta visited during the time that she was getting access to the nano-droids,” said Barriss. _How_ _would you know what Leta was doing? She’s dead. Did she keep a diary?_

“How do you know this?” asked Ahsoka.

“I told you I would do some digging,” replied Barriss. ‘ _Dear Diary, Today I’m going to go shopping for some bombs for my next act of terrorist, my weekend hobby. I sure hope none of my enemies find you and retrace my steps if I die unexpectedly. Sincerely, Leta’._

“Thank you, Barriss,” breathed Ahsoka in relief.

“Be careful Ahsoka,” warned Barriss. _Am I dumb? I still don’t get what she’s supposed to be looking for in the munition’s warehouse._

The hologram call ended. Ahsoka went up to Ventress. “I think I have a lead.” She proceeded to explain, what was in Ares’ opinion, a stupid lead.

“It doesn’t seem like you need my help,” said Ventress.

“That’s not true. We need go to an abandoned munitions warehouse on level 1315. We should be able to find some information there,” said Ahsoka. Ventress had a thoughtful look about her. “You know the place I’m talking about.”

“Yes, I can get you there,” said Ventress, but just as she said that clones descended on their position. _Well now they know where you’re going. Don’t they?_ And with that last thought, the vision ended. Ares was brought back to his room in the Jedi Temple. He immediately took off to 1315 in his starfighter.

The Republic gunships were already there by the time he arrived. The warehouse was in flames and local firemen were trying to put out the blaze before it spread. _Why is it that wherever Ahsoka or Skywalker go, there’s usually a trail of fire and smoke behind them?_ He could sense Ahsoka’s force signature on one of the departing gunships.

“What had Barriss sent Ahsoka to look for, CL-Y?” he asked his droid companion rhetorically.

He parked his ship and went up to have a look around. Yes, there were boxes of munitions and crates of weaponry and buckets of what appeared to be nano droids, but what was this clue that Barriss spoke of?

Ares had swept the entire warehouse and found nothing. He jumped back into his starfighter and raced off. If he couldn’t find anything in the warehouse, there were other places where he could be of use.

[][][]

Even this early in the morning, the entire Temple was buzzing about Ahsoka’s trial in the Chamber of Judgement. It was to commence at noon.

Ares sprinted into the waiting room. Ahsoka was sat on the bench, despondent. Skywalker paced up and down the room nervous and unhelpful. They both turned to see him enter.

“Your _shiny…_ not-a-Knight… has arrived! Sorry I’m late… I have… a good reason… give me a second,” said Ares, breathing heavily from a long sprint. Skywalker and Ahsoka looked at him questioningly. He held up the holotransmitter and pressed play. The holograms of several speaking clones in varying levels of health were speaking. “I spent all morning running around gathering victim testimonies. Three of the clones survived your prison break and are currently conscious… and they just gave statements in favour of Ahsoka,” he said and noticed Ashoka for the first time, radiating a smile.

She stood up slowly, walked up to him, and embraced him. “Thank you… so much,” she whispered into his ear. They were the heaviest words she had ever spoken to him. Even though it was just a hug it felt like the most intimate they’d ever been, and she didn’t seem to care who saw them. She stood back and looked into his eyes. “Where have you been all this time?” she asked.

Ares looked at the nervous wreck that was Skywalker. His agitation must not have been good company for her. The young man decided to amuse his secret lover. “Oh, you know, breaking into prison for illegal evidence, accusing the Council of dishonour and generally disobeying the law. Just my usual everyday hobbies,” he said. She didn’t laugh, but he detected the faintness of amusement in her eyes. The normalcy was appreciated. There was a chime that indicated that the judgement would be starting soon. “Here, hold this. I’ve made several copies anyway—” he shoved the holotransmitter into her hand.

“But… I don’t know what’s even on here or how to argue with it,” said Ahsoka.

“It doesn’t matter. They won’t even ask you for evidence. Just hold it so that you know that you’re innocent. In my experience, facing judgement makes one feel guilty even when they’re innocent,” he said and pushed it into her hand. She accepted, grateful, and stared at the circular disk for a moment.

“Ares, it’s time. Unfortunately, because you’re not a Jedi, you can’t be in here during the trial,” said Skywalker.

“Alright,” said Ares, nodding. “I’ll see you soon!” He promised to Ahsoka as she stepped out into the Chamber of Judgement. He ran out of the waiting room, found a quiet place, got into a meditative trance like the one from before and looked into that Chamber anyway. _Suckers,_ he thought immaturely.

“Padawan Tano, serious charges have been levied against you. How plead you?” asked Yoda.

“Not guilty, master!” pleaded Ahsoka. “I would never take the lives of innocence.” _Too bad the rest of the order does not share that value._ “The values of the Jedi are sacred to me.” _Yeah, you and you alone._

“There is an argument to the contrary,” said Mundi. “You were alone with Leta Turmond when she died. Can you explain this?” _Yeah, the cameras should have had the sound on._

“Someone used the force against her,” Ahsoka gave a feeble reply.

“Which brings us to Ventress,” said Plo Koon. _Are you seriously not going to ask her to elaborate on the Leta murder? How is this a questioning?_ “Can you explain your association with her?”

“We… had a mutual understanding. I thought she was helping me,” said Ahsoka.

“Was Captain Ares of Serenno an accomplice?” asked Windu. The Jedi Master seemed to be dead set on accusing Ares of a convictable malice. “Ventress and Ares are practitioners of the dark arts and ex-Separatists. Did they convince you to bring death and destruction to the Temple?” _That’s not a question. That’s an accusation. This trial isn’t even trying to mean something._

“What?” Ahsoka was surprised to hear that he had been brought up. “No. I had not seen or spoken to Ares from the time of the Jedi Council meeting to about ten minutes ago—”

“Did Ventress or Ares help you acquire the nano droids we found when you were apprehended,” Windu interrupted. “The same devices you were apprehended with.” _Strong language there, Windy._ Ares noticed that they were all focusing on the bombing, not the clone murder.

“No! I was set up and deceived, as you are being deceived right now!” Ahsoka defended. _Why doesn’t she have a legal representative for this, again?_

“The question is, Padawan Tano, who is deceiving us? Ventress, you or someone else?” asked Windu. _He can’t expect to get an honest answer from that question. Do you old windbags even know what a trial is? Ever been to one even?_

“I am not deceiving you!” Ahsoka defended passionately. “I would assume Ventress is… but I can’t be sure. My senses are clouded.”

“Clouded by the dark-side these things are, Padawan Tano,” said Yoda. _That’s rich coming from a puffball who several hours ago said that his own vision of the force was clouded._ “Dangerously clouded, but not just surrounding you. Surrounding all things in these times.”

“You’ve already made your decision, haven’t you?!” Skywalker’s voice boomed around the chamber. “This meeting is just a formality!” He yelled. Ares had never loved Skywalker more. _Atta boy, Skywalker._

Yoda sighed. “Reached a decision, we have. Though not in total agreement are we.” _Well then, you haven’t reached a decision, have you?_

“It is the council’s opinion that Padawan Tano has committed sedition against the Republic,” said Windu. “And thus, she will be expelled from the Jedi Order.”

That conclusion came as a shock to all those present, even those that had made the sentencing. Ahsoka was frozen with terror as the words fell from Windu’s mouth. Skywalker raged from down below. Misery and despair filled the room. Ares could smell it even from his vision.

“Your padawan status shall be stripped from you and you shall forfeit all rank and privileges of that title. You will be turned over to the Republic courts to await your trial and serve whatever punishment they set for you,” stated Mundi. “Henceforth, you are barred from the Jedi Order.”

“You can’t do this! What about the evidence!? What about the proof!?” screamed Skywalker. His way was barred by yellow blades.

“It… would be impossible for _us_ to clear Ahsoka of the charges based on the evidence,” said Kenobi, speaking for the first time during the whole trial. “The Senate will see it as favouritism and weakness in the Jedi. That is something we cannot allow. The evidence will be used in the military trial.”

“You’re playing politics?!” Skywalker screamed out. His hope of the Jedi Council was shattered. They had betrayed it.

Ahsoka was in too much despair to speak or hear anything. There was unimaginable pain and betrayal swelling in her heart.

The surprise of their blatant admittance had been so great that Ares had to fall out of the vision and collide his spine with the hard floor. When he had told the Jedi Council that he had hoped that Ahsoka would be tried by the military courts, he didn’t think they would listen to him and expel her. He ran back up to the Chamber of Judgement, but Ahsoka was gone; taken into the custody of the military courts and prisons.

[][][]

Skywalker, Padme and Ares were granted entrance into her cell. Ahsoka’s hopeless face looked up and managed to form a humourless smile at the sight of her friends.

“Padme has agreed to represent you before the Senate,” said Skywalker.

“I will do everything I can to defend your innocence, Ahsoka,” said Padme.

“I am almost certain that the person behind this is Ventress,” said Ahsoka, before she looked up at Skywalker. “And you know I wasn’t working with her. She was at the warehouse, in the room. We fought, but she got away. Didn’t any of the clones see anything?”

“No,” said Skywalker. “None of the clones reported seeing Ventress at the scene… I thought you said Ventress left before you went into the warehouse?”

“I did too, but then she attacked me when I got inside,” said Ahsoka. “I’d know her red lightsabres anywhere!”

“Well, if that’s our only lead, then I know what I have to do,” said Skywalker.

“Wait, where are you going?” asked Padme. “You can’t leave now.”

“Yes, I can. I have to find Ventress and get to the bottom of this. Come on, captain. We’ll find that scum faster together,” said Skywalker, but the look on Ares’ face made the general groan. “What? What is it now?”

“Something’s not right here. If Ventress wanted to kill Ahsoka, she wouldn’t have made such an elaborate scheme with the bombing or the prison. I know Ventress: it’s not her style. Something’s not right here,” said Ares.

Anakin groaned. His impatience and frustration made him want to hit someone and ask questions later. “I’ll ask about her style when I find her,” he said and walked out of the prison cell.

“Until we hear from Anakin. Let’s work on your defence,” said Padme, taking a seat beside Ahsoka.

Ahsoka sighed deeply. “Forgive me if I’m not optimistic. I thought I was part of that Order, but everyone, except Anakin and Ares, has abandoned me.”

“Well, luckily for you, the good captain has found a lot of good evidence in your favour, Ahsoka,” said Padme.

Something clicked in Ares’ brain, like broken speeder engine when given a new sparker. “Wait… what did you just say?” he pointed to Ahsoka. How could he have been so stupid to not see it earlier!? With the exception of a motive, everything fit together so perfectly.

She crooked an eyebrow-marking. “I said: everyone from the Jedi Order except Anakin and you abandoned me.”

“Barriss…” whispered Ares. _Everyone in the order except Anakin and Ares has abandoned me, _the words knocked around in his head like puzzle piece trying to fit together.

“Alright then, Anakin, you and Barriss are the exceptions,” Ahsoka corrected herself, still not sure what he was hinting at. “I didn’t want to incriminate her in this mess.”

“No, you spoke to her… back there on 1312… She sent you on a weird mission to the warehouse without telling you what to look for… she knew where Leta was shopping for bombs…” as he muttered incoherent things and thought aloud, he started to back away to the door.

“What? I don’t understand,” said Ahsoka. “How do you even know that I spoke to Barriss?”

“Wait for me. Or delay the trial. Filibuster if you must,” said Ares to Padme and rushed out of the prison cell and into the exit at full speed.

[][][]

Barriss’ chambers had been a few corridors down from his own this entire time. She was inside. He could feel it. Ares knocked.

“Enter!” her voice said, and the door slid open. She had been meditating in front of some native Meridian statues inside. The smell of incense burned his nostrils as he came in.

“Barriss, I need to talk to you,” said Ares, calmly.

“Oh, hey, Ares. Lovely to see you. When did you return from the fleet?” she said amicably. She stood up to speak to him face to face.

“Recently,” he said. “I was told that you spoke with Ahsoka before she was arrested. What did you tell her?” He remained standing at the doorway, making sure to block the only exit.

“We’ve been friends for a long time. I was only trying to help her,” said Barriss. “I hope I’m not in any trouble.”

“Is there a reason you would feel that you deserved to be in trouble?” asked Ares.

“A reason?” Barriss wanted to laugh. “Ares, what’s this really about?”

“Why did you send Ahsoka on a fool’s errand to the munitions warehouse?” asked Ares.

“I thought I had a clue for her, but I guess I was wrong,” said Barriss.

“What kind of clue? What did you send her there to look for?” asked Ares. “What was the clue that you found? And how did you know Leta had been there looking for explosives prior to the bombing?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Barriss sprung her hand and force-summoned her lightsabre to her side and slammed it. His own red lightsabre blocked it swiftly.

“Now, now. Why such aggression unless you’ve got something to hide? Guess you’ll be coming with me,” said Ares, pleased with himself for finally solving the enigma of the traitor. He made a series of circular strikes that she defended clumsily. “How are you going to get out of this one now?”

“When we get to the council, I’ll tell them that you attacked me in my room. It’s your word against mine. Who’s the council going to believe? The ex-Separatist who constantly disrespects them and practises the dark art or the obedient star-student?” Barriss taunted.

“No one said anything about the council,” said Ares. “They’ve washed themselves clean of this matter, but the Senate hasn’t. And the Senate isn’t too thrilled about Jedi these days. Star-students or otherwise.”

“You make it sound like I’ll confess to either,” Barriss smirked.

She force-pushed him with such a force that he crashed through the door. She jumped out of the room and sprinted down the hallway. He gave chase. Blue and red lightsabres clashed and danced together in an epic duel in the main hallway of the Temple. Ares was better dueller than her and much stronger, but he could not have the opportunity vanquish her because she kept flickering in and out of the duel, constantly trying to run away. _She’s trying to run to some witnesses or allies,_ he realised.

“Ahsoka trusted you and you betrayed her!” Ares roared.

“There is no trust or justice. The only thing the Jedi Council believes in is violence, so I gave it to them!” Barriss said.

Ares smirked. “If that’s your measure, then you know nothing of my violence,” he said and made hard strikes and crippling blows fuelled by his hatred and anger towards her. He caught the wrist that held her lightsabre and forced her to drop the hilt on the floor. He had defeated her and pointed the tip of his lightsabre at her throat.

Just at that moment, at both ends of the corridor the Temple Sentries flocked. “Cease all hostilities!” The Sentries commanded.

“Sentries! He’s turned to the dark side. He attacked me in my chambers!” Barriss shouted out to them. “Help me subdue him!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ares deadpanned.

The captain never enjoyed a particularly good relationship with the Temple Sentries. They sensed his darkness and were naturally inclined to remove him from the sacredness of the light. They wouldn’t believe any of his arguments. He blocked a strike from behind and force-pushed two Sentries out of the way, but there were three more running at him with double-edged lightsabres out. He was fighting the three at once and out of the corner of his eye Barriss was slipping away. He force-summoned her fallen lightsabre and used them as dual swords against his overwhelming adversaries.

“Wait! Stop the fight!” Skywalker’s voice rung through the corridors of the Temple and the Knight himself came sprinting towards them. The uneven duel stopped, and everyone stopped to look at the approaching Jedi Knight. “Barriss is the traitor! Stop her!” Skywalker screamed at them.

The Sentries looked around themselves confusedly and then at the fleeting form of Barriss. Skywalker force held Barriss and lifted her up in the air for the Sentries to detain her.

Ares took a deep breath, limbs aching. He leaned forward, gripping his knees. “I take it that Ventress revealed something useful?” asked Ares.

“Yeah, that she didn’t ambush Ahsoka, her lightsabres were stolen and that Barriss sent Ahsoka to the warehouse,” said Skywalker.

“I bet we could find those lightsabres in her room,” said Ares.

“How did you know?” asked Anakin.

“Deductive reasoning,” said Ares, watching Barriss get cuffed by the Sentries. “We need to get to the Senate before they pass a verdict.”

[][][]

They arrived just in time for the trial. Skywalker interrupted the Chancellor and showed to the court Barriss. She was paraded in with a procession of Sentry guards. Ares lagged behind, followed by his astromech droid. He watched Ahsoka look at her old friend in horror at her betrayal.

“I did it,” she began her confession. “Because I have come to realise what many people have come to realise that the Jedi are the ones responsible for this war! That we’ve so lost our way that we have become villains in this conflict! That we are the ones who should be put on trial! All of us! My attack on the Temple was an attack on what the Jedi had become! An army fighting for the dark side! Fallen from the light that we once held so dear! This Republic is failing! It’s only a matter of time!”

Her speech was powerful. No one in the Senate spoke a while after it finished, except Chancellor Palpatine, who beckoned the guards to take her away. The only thing that was buzzing in Ares’ ears was a nauseating feeling in his chest and brain. It was not from the speech. As if it was sickness gurgling inside, he grabbed onto the rails to steady himself. The dark side was unimaginably strong here. _Here? In the heart of the Republic?_

“What is it?” asked Skywalker. Ares leaned on CL-Y.

“I don’t know… there’s something… very dark and very strong in this room,” said Ares. The sickness was pounding inside his head and against his ribcage.

“It’s the stench of injustice. I feel it too,” said Skywalker. “Come on, let’s go. Don’t you want to hear the Council’s apology to Ahsoka?” There was so much excitement on Skywalker’s face, but all Ares could feel was the cold, crippling sickness of the dark side.

“Yeah… that’ll be good,” muttered Ares, clutching his head in pain.

[][][]

The apology party consisted of the same members that had expelled Ahsoka: Windu, Yoda, Kenobi, Plo Koon, Mundi, Tiin and Skaak Tii. Of course, Skywalker and Ares wanted to witness this personally. The nauseating headache was gone the moment he left the Senate building, but Ares used it as an excuse to sit in one of the Council seats. He lowered himself onto Kenobi’s chair, rubbing his eyes and watched the show. He had nothing to apologise for and everything to watch.

“You have our most humble apologies, little Ahsoka,” said Plo Koon, approaching this difficult task with affection and warmth. “The council was wrong to accuse you.”

“You have shown such great strength and resilience in your struggle to prove your innocence,” said Tiin.

“This is the true sign of a Jedi Knight,” said Mundi.

“This was actually, your great trial,” said Windu. Ahsoka’s face fell and she crossed her arms. _Oh, this is going to be good,_ thought Ares. Windu had already messed this up. “Now we see that. We understand that the Force works in mysterious ways and because of this trial, you have become a greater Jedi than you would have otherwise.” _Wow. Just when you thought he couldn’t mess this up more,_ thought Ares.

“Back into the Order, you may come,” said Yoda. _May? What, like it’s a privilege?_ Ares thought irritably and then tempered himself. This was important, to Ahsoka at least.

Ares watched Skywalker step forward with her padawan braid held tightly in his hand. Being a Jedi was what Ahsoka had wanted since she could barely walk. It didn’t even cross Ares’ mind that she would reject it. “They’re asking you back, Ahsoka. _I’m_ asking you back,” said Skywalker.

There was a long hesitation. The master and the apprentice looked at one another and the braid that lay between them. She reached out and gently closed his palm. “I’m sorry, master, but I’m not coming back,” she said and with heavy steps she walked out of the Council Chamber, turning her back on the Jedi Order forever. 

Ares sat frozen in place from shock for a few long moments. That was… unexpected, to say the least. He hadn’t even noticed that Skywalker had run out after her until Plo Koon put a hand on his shoulder.

“Go,” said Plo Koon. “She needs a true friend right now. That is something we have not been recently.”

He stood up, silent, his mind reeling with the shock of the announcement that he couldn’t even come up with a cutting remark. He just rushed after her.

“Wait Ares, stop, think… she… she needs things… she needs credits, food, shelter,” he told himself. He rounded the corner of the Temple to rush by his quarters, where he had packed a satchel of belongings for his earlier momentary desertion. He removed things from the bag that she wouldn’t need like his own clothes and his battle memorabilia. Whilst he did that, he wondered what was stopping him from leaving? What was going to keep him here, if Ahsoka was now gone? Ares shook his head. One renegade was enough for today. Besides, Count Dooku was still out there. He still had to defeat his father.

He threw into the bag all the credits that he had and, on his way out, he stopped by the Jedi mess hall to grab as many ration bars that were permissible. He threw in the holotransmitter still full of the evidence and a blaster before tying it and slinging it over his back. He made a quick stop by the girl’s dormitories and entered her room.

He had never been in her room before. There were holocameras on the corridor leading down the girl’s dorms, so they didn’t visit each other’s chambers. Jedi were discouraged from material possession, so the room was bare. He would have thought that no one lived here had it not been for the indentation in the bed, a few holobooks, a box of mechanic tools and what looked like a little toy with distinctive Togruta montrals sitting on the bedside table. No doubt a childhood souvenir from Shilli. He grabbed the lot and placed it into the bag and made his way to the exit.

Skywalker had re-entered the Temple, dejected and heart broken. He saw Ares approach. “She… she wouldn’t come back, even after I spoke with her. She… said she couldn’t stay here any longer…” Ares had never seen Skywalker so broken before. It was a terrifying sight. “…She’s gone.”

“Where did she go?” asked Ares. “Did she say where she was going?” Skywalker said nothing. He was still processing his immense grief. “Skywalker, she needs help now.”

Skywalker noticed the bag of things on Ares’ back. “Is that for her?” Ares nodded. Skywalker reached into his own belt wallet and extracted all the credits there. “She’ll need these then.” He dropped them into Ares’ copper gold hand and went back to the Temple, his strong shoulders fallen and the strength of the warrior failing him. There were very few things that brought Skywalker happiness and Ahsoka had been one of them.

[][][]

Ares found her sitting on the last step of the Jedi Temple staring out at the big, wide world in front of her. It was like watching a kid run away from home and realise they had no idea where to go once they reached the front yard’s gate. She was hugging her knees and her cheeks had the stains of dried tears. Ares gave a moment of thought for how best to approach her.

“Would you like some time alone?” he asked from a distance.

She looked at him with a weak smile and wiped away a fresh tear that was threatening to fall. “No…” she said and patted the space next to her on the step. He sat down, their shoulders touching. “I’ve been alone enough these past few days,” she said.

“… I hope your decision wasn’t influenced by anything that happened… between us,” he said. “Cause, you know, the Council will forgive you for anything. Even a secret affair.”

“Don’t be such a narcissist. Not everything is about you,” she replied, laughing wetly.

“Just checking … Are you sure about this, though?” he asked her. “They were practically offering you a Knighthood. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

She smiled at him, weakly. “They weren’t offering me a Knighthood.”

“They weren’t?” said Ares, surprised. “They were using some very ambiguous language then.”

“It’s not about the Knighthood. I had a long time to think about this when I was waiting for my trial. They traded me for politics. They should have never done that,” she said. “Besides, ‘this was your great trial’ speech really… it just really made me angry.”

He smirked. “You’re starting to talk my language,” he said.

“Well, maybe you had the right idea all along,” she said.

“I wish I could have recorded you saying that,” he said. They looked over the massive city before them. His arm reached out, around her and pulled her closer to him. She leaned into him, seeking out his comfort and warmth. “It’s a large galaxy out there, Ahsoka. This isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning,” he said. “With your skill and wits, you could do literally anything.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m tired though… and hungry and I have no idea where to go.” A universe of possibilities was a daunting prospect after all.

“Well, you must be. I don’t imagine prison serves good food,” he said. “Come on. I’ll take you to a place that serves the best buffet on Coruscant.” He stood up and offered her his hand. She looked at it for a moment before placing hers in his. She didn’t look at the Temple as she let him guide her off topside and into the belly of Coruscant. His hand felt warm against hers. At a distance, CL-Y rolled behind and brought up the rear, ever watchful of her master when he ventured into the depths of Coruscant.

“What’s that bag for?” she asked, noticing it for the first time strapped to his back. “You haven’t left too, have you?”

“The bag is for you. Some stuff I thought you might need. The temptation to leave did arise for me, I’ll admit,” he said, “but my business with the Jedi Order has an expiry date and today, unfortunately, is not that day,” he said.

When they walked into the restaurant, the owner looked at them and caught sight of the lightsabre swinging on Ares’ belt. He offered them a meal on the house.

Ahsoka ate her meal under the watchful eye of CL-Y, who was ordered to keep her company whilst Ares went off to find suitable accommodation. He slid into his seat about half an hour later. “Ok, so this place doesn’t rent rooms, but the place across the street does for a reasonable rate,” he said. He took out the keys from his belt pocket and slid it to her across the table.

“Thank you,” she said. She took the key and pushed away her plate. “I’m done here. Let’s go.”

“Go back to the Temple,” he said to CL-Y, but when Ares looked at his astromech, the eye of the metal, unfeeling droid was somehow giving him a dirty look. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said and received accusative beeps. The astromech followed instructions. Ares followed Ahsoka.

The room was simple: a bed, a desk, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette. There was the faint smell of cleaning chemicals. For the time being, it would do. Ares timidly stepped in after Ahsoka and set down the bag of essentials on her desk.

“What will you do now?” he asked her, leaning back on the table.

“I… have no idea,” she replied. “The Jedi Order was my life. I’ve never had to think about what I would do outside of it.”

“What about your parents? Your family?” he asked. “Surely, Plo Koon would have a lead about them.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever had a particular pull to go looking for them. I doubt they’ll even remember me. It’s been 14 years since I left Shilli,” she said. “And I don’t really want to go back. I’ll figure that out tomorrow, later, on a clearer head,” she said and took a seat on the bed.

Ares sighed and took a seat next to her. “Well, you know how I feel about Coruscant. It’s a dangerous place. Here, I want you to have this,” he said, and he took his father’s lightsabre from his belt and held it out to her.

“Ares, I can’t take your lightsabre—” she protested, but he cut her off.

“I think it’s no secret that I… care deeply for you. Ah, screw it – I love you.” He didn’t look at her face when he said that. “I want you to be able to defend yourself. As we both know, there are a lot of dangerous people in the galaxy. Please, do it for me. I can’t…” her voice cracked mid-sentence. _I can’t lose you again_. “I would rather give you my lightsabre than bear the thought of you being defenceless in this appalling excuse of a city. Please, just do it for me.”

“But… _you_ need it,” she replied, finding a suitable response to his previous, seemingly off-hand, confession.

He shrugged and smiled. “I’ll go to the Temple and say I lost it. They’ll give me a replacement.”

“Obi-Wan is going to kill you,” she said. Ares waved his arm in dismissal. He’d live with it. “Also, I’m not a Jedi anymore,” she added.

“Then you’re lucky to be getting this lightsabre. This is very much not the weapon of a Jedi,” he replied. “It was never owned by any Jedi and it was designed to kill, although, of course, its actions are shaped by the will of the wielder. So, you see, it is very much not a Jedi’s weapon.”

She took the cold, curved hilt from him. The long red blade ignited in her hand. “Not really my colour,” she said, mockingly. He rolled his eyes. She twisted it into her signature reverse grip, the curve feeling odd. “It feels strange.”

 _She would make a poor Sith_ , he thought to himself. His eyes sparked with amusement. “Says the girl who still hasn’t learnt how to hold a lightsabre straight,” he said, smirking. That earned him a light shove on the shoulder. 

“Thank you. I’ll take very good care of it,” she said, softly.

“I put a blaster in the sack as well… just in case,” he said. “I’ll let you get some rest now. You must be exhausted.” He stood up. “Do you need anything else?”

“Yeah, actually, there is something else,” she said, stood up, grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled him closer to her. “I love you too,” she whispered before capturing his lips into a passionate kiss. His practised hands slid around her waist to pull her closer. She smiled against his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. The smell of singed clothing and masculine sweat filled her nose. Their teeth clinked against one another. Their bellies pressed together like two mating sparrows. It felt so good to do this. There was no guilt, no infringement of conscience, no sin. There was only freedom and passionate bliss.

“Stay,” she whispered when they briefly parted from their bliss. “Stay here tonight. Don’t leave me alone.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and looked lovingly into her bright blue eyes. “Of course,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to be that this is a pretty epic “this lightsabre belonged to your father and his father before him” type set-up. What do you think?
> 
> Please REVIEW this chapter. Any PREDICTIONS for next week’s ground-breaking, mind-blowing chapter?


	16. A Promise For Treason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Announcement
> 
> This much awaited chapter was the premise idea for the whole story, hence the chapter title, and I’ve been waiting for months to post it. Savour every moment because you can only read it for the first time once.

#  **Chapter 16 – A Promise for Treason**

Coruscant’s morning rays streaked into the room. Having developed the habit of waking up at dawn, Ahsoka blinked awake easily and found herself pressed tightly against a warm body. Ares was still asleep. It had been the first time they’d slept together all night in an actual bed. _No more air vent scuttling_ , she thought to herself for the first time as she sat up and rested against the headboard.

There were a few things she noticed about sleeping in a bed with Ares. Firstly, he didn’t snore, which was fortunate because she was a very light sleeper. Secondly, he gripped things, mainly her, so tightly he could suffocate someone. Fortunately for both of them, Ahsoka was a gifted force-user and had, during the night, unconsciously loosened his grip. Thirdly, because he clutched so tightly, he was very warm. She was getting cold just being out of that grip, so scooted back into his arms.

She looked at his face and gently traced a finger on his features. Her thumb found his lips, which she had become very well acquainted with.

With him here, the uncertain future didn’t seem that dark to Ahsoka. _Ironically_ , she thought. She briefly wondered how soon it would be taken away from her. True to sod’s law, the commlink on the bedside table buzzed a few seconds later. She’d have to let this… him… go. Duty called.

The commlink whirred irritatingly. Ares didn’t even open his eyes. He reached up to press the mute button, buried his head under some pillows and pulled Ahsoka closer to himself.

“Ares… Obi-Wan is calling,” she whispered, watching him avoid the problem with amusement and enjoying the tight pressure of his embrace. Feeling his hard muscle against was nice, safe even.

“Really? I can’t hear anything,” he said, eyes still closed. “It’s still dark.”

“It’s not. It’s very much morning,” she said, amused. She looked out of the window where the morning light was streaming in. “Ares get up. Obi-Wan will send a squad to look for you if you don’t answer,” she said.

He groaned loudly. “Fine,” he said. He reached for the commlink and answered the call. Ahsoka immediately felt the warmth leave. “Yes, general? What do you want?”

“Captain, it’s time to go. Where are you?” Kenobi’s voice sounded tired. “The cruiser is ready. Our next term of service begins today, and you should have—”

“I’ll be right there, general,” interrupted Ares and turned it off. He looked at Ahsoka, sprawled under the covers. “Your leaving comes at a very inconvenient time, troublemaker.”

Ahsoka lifted herself and rested her head on her hand. “Yes, because when _I_ _planned_ all of this… whatever it was, I thought specifically about how _you_ would be affected,” she replied, sarcastically.

Ares stood up from the bed, groaning as if the act gave him physical, excruciating pain. He started to pick up his scattered clothes and laboriously put them on. Ahsoka watched him, smiling lazily, from the bed.

“It just occurred to me that I have no idea when we’ll see each other again,” he said, sitting down to strap his boots on.

She had a playful smirk on her lips. “I’m sure you’ll find me easily enough,” she said. She leaned forward, wrapped her arms around him from behind and kissed him on the shoulder. When he tried to turn around, she pushed him off.

“Tease,” he whispered. 

“Go. The cruiser is waiting,” said Ahsoka. “And you still need to get a lightsabre replacement.”

“You know, I don’t have to leave now. A few more minutes won’t kill Obi-Wan.” He leaned towards her, aiming for her lips.

She put her fingers on his mouth, stopping him. “You’re already late. Go! Get out,” she said, pushing him away lazily.

“Oh, come on!” he said, laughing. “You know, I could die out there. What if those are the last words you ever say to me?” Ares mocked.

She rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “I have complete confidence in your survival skills,” said Ahsoka.

“You sure you’ll be alright?” asked Ares.

“Go!” exclaimed Ahsoka.

[][][]

Kenobi’s frown and Skywalker’s fatigue were the first thing that the young man saw. In contrast to them, Ares was the happiest he had ever been. He walked with a bounce in his step. His mood seemed to have no place amongst the two Jedi. “Where have you been?” asked Kenobi, accusatively.

“Out,” replied Ares, nonchalantly. “What have I missed?”

“The sieges that you brought to the Council are starting, remember?” said Kenobi.

“That’s today?” said Ares. “I’ve lost track of the days. You know, mourning Ahsoka’s banishment from the Order took its toll on me,” he said without a touch of remorse.

“It’s not a banishment,” huffed Kenobi. “She’s welcome to come back any time she wants.”

“Whatever,” said Ares, dismissively. “I need a new lightsabre.”

“What happened to your old one?” asked Skywalker.

Ares shrugged. “Lost it. I looked everywhere for it, but I’m afraid that it’s lost in the abyss of Coruscant,” Ares said. Kenobi knew Ares was lying. Skywalker knew Ares was lying. Ares knew Ares was lying. They all knew where exactly that lightsabre was.

“That weapon is your life. You can’t just lose it! You can’t let it fall into the hands of… _civilians_!” said Kenobi. If Ares had been a slightly worse mood, he would have resented Kenobi for that remark, but the birds were chirping, and sun was shining, and all seemed great with the universe.

“Technically, I’m a civilian too. Not quite Jedi material,” reasoned Ares with a shrug. “Besides, that weapon is my father’s life. I should have thrown that thing away years ago.”

Skywalker tapped his master on the shoulder. “Leave this to me, master. I think I have one or two he can use.” Obi-Wan huffed and nodded. They didn’t have time for this. Skywalker waved for Ares to follow him to his chambers.

“Is she safe?” asked Anakin once they were out of Obi-Wan’s earshot. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” said Ares. “You don’t need to worry.”

“I know what you’re up to. You have that bounce in your step,” said Anakin, waving a warning finger in front of Ares’ face. For the first time, it occurred to the young man that Skywalker knew the nature of his and Ahsoka’s relationship. He must have put two and two together when Ares didn’t return from the Temple. A part of him wondered if the Knight suspected it even before that.

“I’d never let anything happen to her,” said Ares. “You must know I’d never make her do anything she didn’t feel comfortable with.”

Ares searched in the Force for Anakin’s emotions. There was envy that Skywalker couldn’t have the same freedom from the Order. Guilt was rife too. Skywalker felt responsible for being a bad influence on his padawan. Feelings of pain and abandonment were swelling too. The general was an emotional mess with the departure of his padawan, his best friend. 

He must have sensed Ares’ emotional probing for his shields went up immediately. “I’m warning you now: hurt her, you die… slowly and painfully,” said Skywalker.

Ares blinked. “Hurt ‘her’?” he asked, confused. “I’m sorry, have you met Ahsoka Tano? You ever been on the receiving end of her punch? You should be making those threats to her, not me. I’m the vulnerable party.”

“Good. I specifically taught her how to beat up boys like you,” said Skywalker. A satisfied smirk had curved on his lips.

“Thanks for the heads-up… pointless and about three years too late, but whatever,” said Ares. “So, where are you being sent?”

“The Council is sending the 501st to Ringo Vinda,” said Anakin. “The 212th is to defend our shipyards on Anaxes.”

“Great,” said Ares, rubbing his eyes and groaning. “This is going to take months, isn’t it?” Of course! Of course, now that Ahsoka said she loved him and they didn’t have to hide their affairs, he would be gone for an extended military service leave. Why would he ever assume otherwise? _Why is this my life?_ he thought dejectedly to himself.

They rounded into his quarters. Ares had never been inside of Skywalker’s Jedi chambers. It was lined with models of ships, mechanic parts and crates. On the wall, there was a poster of some pod racer or other. The captain noticed a familiar maintenance box for prosthetics with skeletal-like metal replacements for hands and fingers. Amidst the junk of the room, Skywalker took out a small velvet box and held it out to Ares. Inside were Ahsoka’s two lightsabres.

“After she left, I retraced her steps. We don’t have time for you to return them to her now, but when we come back from the Sieges you’re welcome to,” he said.

Ares took both of Ahsoka’s lightsabres in his hands. He clipped the little shoto safely onto his belt and examined the main-hand white hilt. The straightness would need some getting used to, but otherwise Ahsoka had constructed a perfectly balanced weapon. He ignited it and a green blade shot out. Ares practised a few moves to get familiar with the grip. It felt like her, a piece of her. At least he would have a physical piece of her by his side in battle if he could not have the whole. 

“I haven’t had time to tinker with them yet,” said Skywalker. “Do you think she’d find it funny if I switched her crystals to blue?”

Feeling instantly possessive of the two weapons, Ares gave Skywalker a deadly look. “Do that and I swear I’ll bleed your crystal red,” said the captain.

A haunted look crossed Skywalker’s face. “I’ve been up all night… thinking about how she could have left me,” he said.

Ares briefly entertained the idea of telling Skywalker that he too had been up almost all night, though for very different reasons. It would get the general out of his misery, though Ares would have to deal the general’s anger instead. He decided on a different approach instead.

“Skywalker, just shut up. Not everything is about you,” he said, reminding himself of all the reasons he had previously disliked Skywalker. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten them so easily. “You’re like a clingy, sad boyfriend or… no, more like an emotionally-insecure dad. You know what’s appreciated by 17 year old girls? Being saved from a death penalty for false charges of terrorism. You know what they don’t appreciate? Being blamed for the emotional insecurity of old men like yourself. Grow up, Skywalker, and stop being selfish. Let the girl live a little. She has her own problems to deal with, without your emotional clinginess.”

“What problems?” Skywalker sprung up immediately. Though he didn’t say it, Ares saw the underlying offer: _who do I need to beat up?_

“I don’t know. Being stripped of an identity by the people who raised her? Figuring out a place in the world without the Jedi Order? Finding a purpose? Finding a job, a more permanent place of residence? Dealing with war trauma? Committing to a real sleep schedule, like a normal person? Just to name a few off the top of my head,” said Ares.

Skywalker slumped his shoulder. “It’s all my fault.”

Ares gave the general a deadpanned look. “Yes, Skywalker, because you are so omnipotent that the sun and moon rise and fall on your command. I had no idea I was in the presence of a god. Let me kiss your feet, Chosen One. Everything that happens in the world, good or bad, is exclusively, unequivocally your fault.” Skywalker was silent. “Shut up, Skywalker. Don’t annoy me with this kriff anymore.”

[][][]

Pallas of Serenno found herself in a room of holograms. In the background, the chaotic battles she had instigated played themselves out. In the forefront, three bounty hunters stood, speaking to her. They were trying to sell valuable information. Typically, Pallas’ spies were much more reliable individuals, but time was running out now and she’d take anything.

“A man named Maul has taken control of Mandalore and uses it as his base for spice trading,” said one cloaked figure.

“It’s not just spice. I’ve heard he has illegal arms and piracy in the palm of his hands,” said another.

“If he has control of Mandalore, it is just from the shadows. Prime Minister Almec is still the Head of State,” said the third figure. “No one knows where Maul is.”

“A resistance movement called the Night Owls has assembled to resist him. Death Watch divided in two after Maul killed their leader, Pre Vizsla,” added the first.

“How can I speak to this… Maul?” asked Pallas.

“The Pykes. They’ll have constant contact with their master,” said the second bounty hunter.

“But be weary, mistress. The Pykes hate Separatists. Your father murdered their clansmen in the past,” said the last bounty hunter. _Of course he did,_ Pallas thought, almost bored.

“Thank you. You have been most valuable,” said Pallas and turned off the holograms.

She leaned forward and put her fingers together, deep contemplation. ‘Never trust a Sith’ was one of her husband’s ironically favourite mantras and one she had come to understand. _So what do you do when you need a Sith’s help?_ Time was running out and she was getting desperate.

An engineering droid saluted her and broke her out of her thoughts. “General, the refurbishments have been completed and the Jedi-restraining cell has been assembled.”

She looked at the droid. “Is it portable, like I asked you to make it? I want to be able to drive my captured Jedi prisoners anywhere I want,” she said.

“Yes, general,” said the droid. “It’s outside. Ready for your inspection.”

“General!” another droid hailed her. “Commander Pompeii is requesting boarding. We’ve verified his identity and security codes. He confirms that he has the cargo.”

“About time. Let him land!” ordered Pallas. “I’ll receive him in the new refurbishments.”

“Roger, roger!”

Her engineers had outdone themselves. They had furnished one of the hangers into a soundproof, bulletproof safe room akin to a mental hospital. There was the main holding cell large enough to fit a ship and a few separate, smaller ones for individuals. Thirteen operating tables were planted in the centre of the room with their glistening bonds and restraints. The mechanisms for the whole place were linked to Pallas’ wrist controls and she played with them for a moment to see that they all worked. The Operating Theatre was finally fully functional and ready for use.

A squadron of droids entered the Operating Theatre, escorting Pompeii and a hooded guest.

“He was not difficult to find with your instructions,” said Pompeii, after saluting his general.

“Good, good,” said Pallas, patting the Zygerrian’s shoulder. “Now, I want you to set up quarters on Frigate 15 and make a patrol sweep of these co-ordinates.” She transferred them onto his commlink. The Zygerrian exited the Operating Theatre leaving Pallas alone with her guest. “Long time no see, Doctor Vindi. I trust your journey was smooth.”

“Ze journey might have been,” Vindi said, his accent thick. “But you have no idea how unsmooth my time in a Republic prison vas!” his high voice shrieked, and his grey and black eyes turned manic. _One of his many deranged oddities_ , Pallas reminded herself, _think nothing of it._

Pallas sighed. “Calm down, doctor. You were there a relatively short time before your rescue. You should be a little more grateful. I don’t call in favours and hire bounty hunters to rescue my associates from prison often.”

“Ah, but I has zomething zat you need!” he said and waved his finger, mockingly. She had forgotten how much this man annoyed her. She knew that scientists and geniuses were strange people, but this one was a drop too much. “Now, let us discuss payment.”

“Name your price,” said Pallas with a deep sigh.

“My last vork for you vas paid… poorly,” said Vindi.

“I gave you what you asked,” said Pallas.

“And zen I vas captured by the Republic forces,” said Vindi, angrily.

“That’s hardly my fault or responsibility. You should have hid your droids better, doctor,” replied Pallas with a shrug. “I warned you against putting a secret lab on Naboo.”

“I needed their climate to develop the Blue Shadow Virus, but I see your point, general,” said Vindi. “Zis time I vant a friendly planet. A system where I am free to do my experiments in a luxurious palace, not zome hovel in ze ground! I also vant it fully funded.”

“Very well,” said Pallas. “You’ll have your payment. After the surgery.”

“And zpeaking of which, where am I supposed to vork? Zis is a hanger, not a laboratory. Where iz all my equipment?” he looked around the Operating Theatre with disdain.

“No. This is not for you. Your work will be done just in the next room. Come, allow me to show you to your new workstation,” said Pallas, turning on the heels of her boots and leaving the Operating Theatre. The malevolent doctor followed behind her, twitching and fidgeting.

The Laboratory was one corridor down. It was another part of the refurbishment that Pallas had personally paid for out of her own accounts. It was a spacious room that smelt of antibacterial disinfectant. Cold instruments waited for the doctor. Pincers, scissors, lasers, needle-holders, and forceps of all kinds were laid out. An operating table was at the centre of the room. Computers and scopes were waiting for fingers to dance upon their keys.

“Is this suitable for you, doctor?” asked Pallas.

Vindi seemed to be tearing up. “Ooh, it’s beautiful. It’s everything I’ve ever vanted,” cried the mad scientist. “Thiz is ze standard I vant my payment to uphold.”

“Good. You’ll work comfortably then,” said Pallas. “Make yourself at home. Your patient will arrive shortly.” _If I can catch them, that is,_ she thought grimly.

[][][]

As she watched the two sisters bicker between themselves, Ahsoka was left with a difficult choice: reveal her Jedi past to two orphans whose parents were accidentally killed by a Jedi and use Ares’ lightsabre to escape their captivity or wait in the Pyke prison until a better alternative arrived. The curved hilt itself was secreted in her boot, but to avoid any accidents she had removed the red crystal and secret that in a pocket of her belt. 

Their previous attempts of escape had failed and she had been using plenty of help from the Force. If she did reveal herself, how would they even escape? Sure, she could use the Force to unlock the cell and cut down any of their assailants, but could she keep all three of them from getting shot or caught? Their previous attempts suggested discouraging answers.

“What do you think we should do, Ahsoka?” Trace asked her, but, before Ahsoka could answer, she sensed a familiar presence in the Force. Ahsoka stood up from her seat and went to the jail bars to see if her senses were true. She tuned into the conversation with the Force.

“What business do you have with our client, Mistress Minerva?” came the voice of Marg Krim. He was far from the cell, but the lazy footsteps were coming closer.

“I wish to do business with him. I was hoping you would be able to put me into contact with… your client,” said an all too familiar voice that confirmed Ahsoka’s worst suspicions. _Why was she everywhere?!_ The Togruta thought furiously. _How was this even physically kriffing possible?!_

“Damn!” she whispered quietly and looked around the cell for her options. “Can you two stand right here?” she whispered, moved the Martez sisters and sat on the bench behind them so that their shapes could hide her from view. She wasn’t a fan of hiding, especially behind these two, but if Pallas found her then things would go south really quickly. “There’s someone out there who cannot see me here.”

“And they should see us?” Raffa said, distrustful as ever.

“The person I’m hiding from doesn’t know you, but if she recognises me then we’re all done for!” Ahsoka hissed, praying that the sister’s distrust wouldn’t ruin an otherwise perfectly good plan.

“Who is it? Someone you owe money? An ex-girlfriend? See, Trace, I knew Miss Goody-Too-Shoes has some skeletons in her closet,” said Raffa, looking out of the cell.

“Be quiet! Both of you!” said Ahsoka.

Her Togruta senses heard the footsteps come closer. The Pykes were giving Pallas a tour of their dungeons. She was flanked by two tall figures whose cloaks hid everything except their gleaming red eyes: Magna Droids. Pallas herself was cloaked and was being addressed as ‘Mistress Minerva’. It seemed that she too did not want to be found. _Curious,_ thought Ahsoka.

“I’m afraid that such a business transaction will not be possible. Our client will not be indisposed to grant us many favours of late,” said Marg Krim.

“Why not?” asked Pallas.

“A shipment has been lost. You can thank these three greedy idiots for hiding a shipment of spice,” said Marg Krim as he hit their cell’s bars with his fist angrily. “Until I crack its whereabouts from them, there can be no deal.”

Pallas fixed her eyes on the prisoners. Ahsoka contemplated using a Jedi mind trick to turn their attention away, but something told her that Pallas’ mind was not feeble. “Who’s the third one there? In that back?” asked Pallas.

Raffa, not wanting to be hit by a shocker one more time, moved almost instantly. Trace whispered an “I’m sorry _”_ before moving aside. Ahsoka felt exposed and looked up to see Pallas’ face.

It could have been the poor lighting or maybe Ahsoka had been hit with a shocker one too many times, but she could have sworn that Pallas was… delighted to see her? An instant brightness took over the older girl’s face, as if a solution to a complicated math puzzle had been presented to her.

“Fascinating,” said Pallas, not lifting her eyes from Ahsoka’s. “Master Krim, what if I offered to pay off their debt? How much did they lose?”

Marg Krim laughed, and his Pyke comrades followed suit. Pallas watched them patiently. “How generous of you! Why would you do such a thing?” said Marg Krim, distrustful as ever.

“I… happen to enjoy the company of young women,” Pallas said. It shouldn’t have surprised Ahsoka, but the young general was a very good liar. “Here’s a deal: I’ll pay off their debt and you give them into my custody.”

“As slaves?” asked Marg Krim.

“…Sure,” said Pallas.

“What?! No!” Raffa exclaimed but was instantly hit by a shocker by one of the Pyke guards. Trace let out of a terrified whine. Ahsoka regarded Pallas with scepticism. _What was she up to?_ Ahsoka wouldn’t put it past Pallas to dabble in slavery. She had personally seen Pallas be the guest of the Zygerrian Queen, but… the disguise, the false alias, the sneaking around, the shady negotiations with criminal syndicates? This was not Separatist business. There was another side to this story.

Ahsoka took a moment to consider the options. If they stayed in the Pyke prison, they’d be tortured for spice that they didn’t have. If they were bought by Pallas, they’d be… what did Pallas even want with them? Bait for Anakin or Ares? Republic secrets? Revenge? Against all logic, the Force guided Ahsoka to stay quiet.

“50,000 credits,” Krim set their price. He was greatly exaggerating the number. “Is that a number you would like to pay for… the company of young women?”

“Hey, we come with a ship! We’re worth more than 50,000 credits!” Trace shouted out.

“50,000 including their ship,” said Pallas. “I know you’re exaggerating the price, Master Krim. No rookies would be given 50,000 credits worth of cargo.”

“50,000 with the ship then. I have no use for that piece of junk anyway,” said Krim.

“Hey!” Trace protested her prized ship being called junk, but Raffa put her hand on her sister’s shoulder to shut her up.

Pallas ignored them. “Do you accept Confederate credits?” she asked the Pyke.

“No. Wupiupi only,” Krim said.

“Damn, the Hutt’s exchange rate is awful these days,” she whispered, seemingly absent-mindedly, as she riffled through her pockets for her account book. “Stun them before you bring them onto my ship.”

The ray shield door went down. “Wait, wait, Pal—!” Ahsoka shouted out before the blue circle of the stun gun made her drop to her knees and everything to go dark.

[][][]

They landed in the main hangar of _The War God._ One of Pallas’ bodyguards had navigated _The Silver Angel_ and set it down next to their ship.

Pallas saw the hanger maintenance crew look for orders. “Fill up the fuel on that thing. It’s going to go on a long journey,” she said, pointing at _The Silver Angel_. Her orders were met with a round of ‘roger, rogers!’

The magna droids brought out the unconscious prisoners. Pallas set her hip blaster to stun and shot Ahsoka with it once more. “Take that one to the Jedi holding cell. Stun her if she wakes up,” she told one of the guards. The red eyes nodded and two of them dragged Ahsoka off. Pallas turned to the other guard. “Wake them up,” she said.

The magna droid took up his double-bladed electrostaff and bumped both young women with the purple zaps of electricity on the soles of their feet. They lurched immediately awake.

“Who are you? What do you want with us?” Raffa demanded, seeing Pallas stand over them.

“My name is Pallas. I’m a general of the droid army,” answered Pallas.

“Where’s Ahsoka?” Trace asked, looking around. “What have you done with our friend?”

“Unharmed, for now,” said Pallas, casually. “To make sure she stays that way, you’re going to do a job for me.”

“We’re not doing any job for you, Separatist scum!” Trace declared, proudly, ignoring the red glare of the magna droids with their purple electrostaffs.

“How much?” asked Raffa, pragmatically. “What kind of job?”

“I see you’re the smart one, then,” said Pallas. “You’re going to take your ship. You’re going to fly all the way back to Coruscant and you’re going to deliver a message, an invitation even, to the Jedi Council. In particular, you’re going to find someone called Ares of Serenno and Anakin Skywalker and you’re going to tell them that I have Ahsoka Tano. If they want her to live, they are cordially invited to come and collect her. I’ll be right here, waiting for them,” said Pallas.

“Why would the Jedi care about Ahsoka?” asked Trace.

“I see she hasn’t shared with you many aspects of her life,” Pallas said. “Look, I just want you to deliver the message. Then you can consider your debt paid. You can even keep your ship.”

“You want us to deliver a message for 50,000 wupiupi?” asked Raffa, unable to fathom such a ridiculous request. 

“Do not make me second-guess my generosity,” said Pallas. “The task is simple. Deliver my message to the Jedi and be cleared of your inordinate debt or fail and I’ll hire bounty hunters to haunt you for the rest of your lives until you repay me 50,000 wupiupi credit by credit. I hope you’re competent enough to manage that. I’ll know if you failed.”

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, general,” said Raffa, made a vague imitation of a soldier’s salute, grabbed her sister and pulled them to her ship.

“You’re not serious!” Pallas heard Trace yelp out as they walked onto the ship.

“Shut up, Trace!” muttered Raffa. “Ahsoka has some crazy ex-girlfriends.”

 _Worst criminal duo ever,_ Pallas thought with an eyeroll.

[][][]

Ares stretched out his sore arms as he entered the command bridge of _The Negotiator._ The Battle of Anaxes had been exhausting. He didn’t remember seeing that many droids in one place in his entire life.

Kenobi beckoned him over to the holotransmitter. He was with Skywalker and the holograms of Plo Koon, Mace Windu and Yoda were present. There were also two strangers with them: two girls who looked similar enough to be sisters. They were looking at the Jedi with an eye of distrust and nervousness.

“What’s going on?” Ares asked.

“These two young women have come to the Jedi Temple claiming they have a message for Ares of Serenno and Anakin Skywalker from General Pallas,” said Plo Koon.

“I’m Ares of Serenno. What’s this message?” said Ares.

The older girl regarded him with suspicion, eye darting to the two white hilts on his belt. Then she spoke up. “My name is Raffa Martez. My sister and I found ourselves in the companionship of Ahsoka Tano and the three of us were captured by General Pallas. She sent us to Coruscant to tell you that she has Ahsoka Tano. If you want her to live, you are ‘cordially invited’ to her ship. She provided us the co-ordinates of her fleet.”

“Thank you for your message, Miss Martez,” said Windu. “Is there anything else?”

“She paid 50,000 credits to deliver this message,” said Raffa. “She really wants you to come and get Ahsoka.”

“Thank you. I will,” said Ares. The two girls disappeared from the hologram and so did the Jedi Council.

“This is obviously a trap,” said Kenobi, looking at the co-ordinates. They were almost on the other side of the galaxy. “She means to lure us away from the Sieges. And to capture you for your father.”

“Obviously,” Ares said with an eyeroll. “But she still has Ahsoka.”

“I agree with Ares,” said Skywalker. “We need to help her.”

“I don’t disagree with you two, but we have our hands full with the sieges. We need to defend both Saluecami and Yerbana,” said Kenobi. “And… unfortunately, Ahsoka is no longer a member of the Grand Army of the Republic. Your personal feelings cannot cloud your greater purpose, the greater good. That goes for both of you.”

Anakin looked at the captain “I can’t go because I’m needed here at the sieges, but I can give you a platoon – 36 men. Unlike some, I can win Saluecami and Yerbana with one platoon less,” said Skywalker to Ares. “Find Ahsoka, rescue her and capture Pallas. The war will end so much sooner if your sister isn’t in it. Rex will go with you,” said Skywalker.

“How will you explain this division of forces to the council?” asked Kenobi, crossing his arms.

“We have the location of one of the best generals of the droid army. A rare opportunity. We can end the war faster!” said Skywalker.

“Please, general. Let me do this,” said Ares, softly, praying for Obi-Wan’s understanding.

Kenobi’s blue eyes looked at his two students, young men that were like sons to him, who had united against him. It was a fight he couldn’t win and, what’s more, he couldn’t afford. “Fine,” he said.

[][][]

Rex’s efficiency with rounding up a platoon to go save their old commander from the clutches of a Separatist general was record-breaking. Not only did he assemble them and have to deny the surplus of volunteer troopers who also wanted to come, but the platoon was able to organize the appropriate gear. Ares walked in on 36 soldiers, who were all now sporting orange helmets with a familiar white pattern.

CL-Y, who was by his side, looked up at him with her metallic eye. _Don’t get horny for the clones now,_ she beeped at him.

Ares glared at the droid. “I could do without the attitude, droid.” He approached the clone captain. “Rex? What is this?”

“The boys thought the commander would appreciate it,” said Rex, grinning. “We’ve had the idea on the backburner for some time now. Just needed an excuse to use it, sir.”

“She’s gonna love it,” said Ares, with a wide grin.

Rex looked at the droid. “Guess we’ll need a navigator, but the droid is the limit. There is physically no more space on the ship,” said Rex. Just as Rex said that, they all saw Cody walk into the hanger. Rex stepped forward. “Sorry, commander. You can’t come with us,” said Rex.

“I couldn’t even if you did have the space, though I would have loved to join,” said Cody. He put a muscled hand on Ares’ shoulder and squeezed. “I came here to wish you good luck, kid. I would have gone with you, but who’s going to watch General Kenobi’s back if you’re not there.”

“Thanks commander,” said Ares. The emotions in this room were becoming too much. When Cody left, Ares faced the rest of the platoon. “We should go. I know how much she hates damselling in distress.”

[][][]

“What’s the plan, captain?” asked Rex, taking the co-pilot’s seat on the ship. Jesse and Vaughn stood around him.

Ares was lifting the ship off the hanger and getting ready to jump to hyperspace. Skywalker had gifted them with a fresh model of a Republic freighter for transport. “The plan is simple. For whatever reason, Pallas wants me alive. She’s made that clear. So, she’ll let us land in the main hanger. From there, we fight our way through.”

“That’s your plan? Just fly there, land, hope they don’t blow us up and rescue the commander?” asked Rex with a deadpan look on his face. Just when he thought he could have a breather from reckless plans.

“Basically, yeah,” Ares said with a shrug. “Anyone have a better idea?” No one volunteered.

“Has anyone ever told you that you and Skywalker have a lot in common?” asked Jesse.

“No,” said Ares. “I’ve always been told that I ‘pull too many Kenobies’. Today is a day for Skywalker-style plans.”

[][][]

Ares piloted their ship into the main hanger of _The War God_ with the landing gear switched off. He crashed the ship into a waiting battalion of his sister’s battle-droids and the whole platoon ran out, blasting. Ares was on the front lines brandishing Ahsoka’s green lightsabre to deflect the blasts, but he soon found that it was a pointless strategy.

The clankers had their blasters set to stun. With a larger circumference, the blue circles were able to catch a clone even if they dodged the shot. Ares watched troopers fall into sleep-like states all around him and was infuriated. He took out Ahsoka’s shoto lightsabre from his belt and wielded the dual swords. He charged at the enemy line, cutting down the droids quickly. 

As he was cutting them down, he heard the yellow-crested droid commander contact Pallas. “General, the Republic forces are overwhelming us!” just as Ares lopped off the droid’s head. He picked up the communicator and heard his sister’s voice.

“I don’t care. Hold the line no matter the casualties and keep the blasters on stun!” were the only words that came from the general.

The clones gunned down the rest of the droids with ease.

“That was… too easy,” said Rex, as he and the boys ran up to Ares.

“She certainly wants you alive, captain,” said Jesse.

“Why are they stunning us?” asked Ares, confused. CL-Y rolled up to his side and he patted her head.

“I don’t know, captain,” said Rex. “Clankers don’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.”

“I don’t like it,” said Ares and started looking around for cameras from which Pallas could have been watching them. “What are you planning!?” He shouted out into the emptiness that did not answer him.

“She’s cut down our numbers,” said Rex, finishing the count of his troopers. There were 20 of them left. “We can’t leave the stunned troopers, but we can’t bring them with us either.”

“Droid reinforcements will be coming,” said Sterling, a young trooper.

“They’re not jamming our communications,” said Jesse, checking his wrist commlink.

“My sister doesn’t make such sloppy mistakes,” said Ares, trying to figure out his sister’s intentions and coming up empty. “We should split up,” said Ares, rubbing his eyes. “Rex, have a couple boys stay with the stunned ones and try to wake them up. Then I want you to go disable all the transports on this ship. I’ll go after the commander and general. Meet you on the command bridge. We’ll bring her flagship back to the Republic fleet like a trophy.”

“Yes, sir,” said Rex and the clones ran off to the next hanger.

Ares gripped the green lightsabre tightly in his hand and looked at the little droid looking up at him expectantly. “Come on, CL-Y. I hope you know how to steer a Separatist frigate.” He kept the green blade on, though they encountered almost no droids on their way. “This feels so… strange,” he told his mechanical companion.

[][][]

The doors of the command bridge blew open and Ares walked in with his astromech on his heels. Finally, this nightmare could end. He came face to face with his sister in the flesh. She stood on her bridge with no intentions of leaving it. Four magna guard droids stepped forward to surround him with their purple electrostaffs, waiting for their general’s command.

She turned, as if she’d been waiting for him. “It’s good to see you, brother, though I expected Skywalker too,” said Pallas. Her lack of fear was infuriating. A quick look around revealed that Ahsoka was not there, which didn’t help his temper.

“Where is she?” he said as he pointed the blade at her, but it failed to intimidate. He looked around at the bodyguards and calculated he’d need precisely five minutes to make short work of them.

“I haven’t seen you, the real you, properly in three years. The last time… the last real time… was on your ship, albeit you wouldn’t remember it,” Pallas said. _What the hell does that even mean?_

“If you don’t tell me where she is, you will discover a new definition for pain,” he said with gritted teeth.

“You’ll see her soon enough,” Pallas said, dismissively. “But only after your surgery. Your head is so full of lies. It is time for them to be removed.”

“What are you--?” but before Ares could finish his words or act on his promised threats, the blue circle of a stun blast shot his back and he fell to the cold ground. Behind him, CL-Y stood with her unique blaster ejected, smoking from the barrel.

“Nice work, CL-Y. You’ve done well, my friend,” said Pallas. She leaned down beside him, touching her brother’s face. She had waited so long for this day to come and couldn’t believe that it was finally here. “He’s all I have left,” she whispered to herself. “I can’t lose him.”

[][][]

The doors of the laboratory slid open. A squadron of battle droids rolled the unconscious Ares into Vindi’s workspace and transported him onto the operating table. Pallas followed close behind. The spy droid, CL-Y, was on her true master’s heel.

“Ah, Master Ares, ve meet again finally,” said Vindi, putting on his surgical gloves. “It’s been quite zome time since I’ve been acquainted viz your brain. Let’s see how vell you’ve looked after it, hm?”

Pallas’ voice hardened. The fist by her side tightened _._ “If you fail, your pain will be unimaginable. Succeed and you’ll have all the riches that you desire.”

“Yes, yes, general. All vill be done properly,” said the mad doctor. Checking that the droids had put the force-sensitive restraints on his patient properly.

Pallas turned to look at her brother. “I’ll see you soon, brother,” she whispered her promise. She looked at the red and gold droid that had followed her in. “Call me when he wakes up. And make sure that the doctor makes no mistakes.”

The droid beeped in the affirmative and Pallas left the Laboratory.

[][][]

As Rex slowly regained his consciousness, he knew that something had gone very wrong. They had been ambushed and he had blanked out. His limbs felt sore as he sat up. The platoon were scattered all around him in varying states of consciousness. He and his brothers had been deposited into a cubicle that had clear ray-shields for walls. They didn’t have their weapons.

“How you doing, Rexter?” Ahsoka’s voice made him jolt and turn around. He found the Togruta suspended on a special Jedi holding cell. She was enclosed in a clear ray-shielded container that slowly rotated her clockwise. Around her wrists and ankles were force-restraining cuffs. “It was foolish of you to come here. Although, despite our current arrangements, I must say that the helmets were a heart-warming surprise.”

“Commander, where are we?” asked Rex.

“On board Pallas’ ship in what she so delightfully dubbed ‘The Operating Theatre’,” said Ahsoka, spinning slowly. “Force, I hate damselling in distress.”

“At least you make a good perimeter check,” Rex said with a serious face. Ahsoka shot him an unamused look as she spun around. “It’s good to see you, commander,” he said, quickly, never one to cross boundaries with his superiors.

“Rex, I left the Order,” said Ahsoka. “When are you going to stop calling me that?”

“When you get promoted,” said Rex, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “How are we getting out of here, commander?”

“Well, I’ve already… done a perimeter check,” said Ahsoka, still spinning. “There are no controls for the ray shields in the room. I have Ares’ lightsabre in my boot, but, even if I could reach and assemble it, it won’t cut through the ray shields. So, I’m open to ideas, captain.” Rex looked around at his cellmates and counted 35 men, including himself. Ahsoka read his puzzlement. “I’ve already checked that too. Old habits die hard after all. There’s 35 of you in there and Jesse is out here.” Ahsoka’ jerked her head to the one individual cell, which housed a groggy lieutenant. “He seems unharmed.”

“Where’s Ares?” asked Rex.

“No idea,” said Ahsoka.

Rex looked beyond their cell’s boundary. He saw several adjacent smaller cells, one of which was occupied by Jesse. At the centre of the room, there were thirteen, eerie operating tables. They gave him unpleasant childhood memories of Kaminoan medical facilities. _What did the general have in store for them?_

The sound of the entrance opening got the attention of the room and they saw the young general walk in. She was flanked by a squadron of medical droids and carried one of the clone’s assault rifles in one hand. She passed Ahsoka’s container without saying a word, but her finger pressed on a wrist control and Ahsoka stopped spinning, facing Jesse’s cell. Then, Pallas looked at the clones through the clear ray shields. “Some are still stunned I see,” she said. She looked at her wrist controls and pressed a button. An overheard spray of water gushed down on them, soaking the clones and waking up the unconscious ones.

“What do you want, you Separatist brat?” Jesse yelled from his isolated cell.

Her eyes focused on Jesse with amusement. “You’re going to regret those words, clone,” she sneered. “I’m going to show you something and I need all your men to witness it.” She pressed another button on his wrist controls. The back wall of the main cell suddenly glowed and dragged itself across the floor, gathering all the clones like rats and pushing them up, towards the front wall. The clones were now shoulder to shoulder, standing in a straight line, a ray shield pressing on their backs and chests. There wasn’t even enough space for the clones to turn around or move. They would have to watch what was about to occur, whether they liked it or not. _She’s going to torture Jesse for Republic information and make us watch,_ thought Rex, looking at a desperate Jesse in his separate cell.

“Good,” she said. “Guess I should start.” Taking a deep breath. Despite the power that she wielded, she seemed nervous. Pallas put the blaster she had brought with her on the ground and overstepped it to walk up closer to Jesse’s cell. His ray-shield pushed back, deeper into his space. A beam that blocked sound shot up, isolating the general and lieutenant from the others. They all watched as the general leaned in and whispered something that only Jesse could hear. Then, surprisingly, she opened the cage and Jesse was free.

To the surprise of the clones, their brother did not pounce on their relatively unguarded enemy. As soon as she whispered her secret words to him, something changed. A fiery, violent madness took over him. He looked like an unhinged animal and he looked around the room in search of prey. Ahsoka felt Jesse’s eyes land on her and never really leave her. That terrifying gaze reminded her of a disgusting Trandoshan hunter in a dark, far-away jungle.

He pushed past Pallas, snatched the blaster from the floor and starting shooting at Ahsoka, without even a second thought.

“Good soldiers follow orders! Good soldiers follow orders!” He was screaming. His blaster shots had the precision and deadly aim of an ARC trooper and would have killed the Togruta had the ray shield not protected her.

The entire battalion watched with horror as their brother turned on their beloved Jedi commander. He screamed for Ahsoka’s murder as if it pained him that she was alive. The blue light from the blaster kept firing. There was smoke clouded the room in a thick fog as an entire blaster round was emptied of its ammo, which was not an easy feat with Republic issued rifles. The ray shield remained impenetrable.

“Jesse! What are you doing?!” Rex screamed out to his brother.

“Why aren’t _you_ following orders?!” Jesse screamed at him. “The Jedi are traitors! They are all to be terminated for treason!”

“Trooper, stand down!” Ahsoka implored, but he didn’t hear anything. She had seen this only once before – during a medical supply run when the clones were infected by a Geonosian parasite – but then the clones were absent from their actions and here Jesse seemed to be fully aware of what he was doing. She realised that had it not been for the ray shield, one of her own men would have killed her by now. “What is happening?” she asked, helplessly.

“Why aren’t you all following orders!” Jesse screamed at his brothers. “We all have orders to terminate the Jedi! You’re all traitors!” Then he tried shooting some of his brothers, but their ray shield protected them too.

Seeing his attempts were futile, Jesse turned his attention to Pallas. “You are obstructing my orders. Open the shield! Let me follow orders! I have orders to terminate the Jedi! Let me carry out orders—” but the zap of a stun shot silenced him and Jesse fell to the floor.

Pallas did not release her aim on the clone until the medical droids lifted him up and strapped him down on one of the operating tables. She allowed for a moment of silence for that horror show to fully sink in. “Remove the chip. I want him alive!” she ordered.

“Roger, roger,” the medical droids nodded and immediately began the surgery.

Pallas turned to face them. “What you saw just now is the fate of all clones and Jedi. Separatist or Republic, we are all pawns in a game none of us fully understand,” she said.

“What did you do to him!?” shouted Spearhead.

“What are you doing to him now?!” screamed Foxtail.

“Allow me to explain,” she said, trying to collect the right words into the palm of her hand. She had prepared for this for a long time. Now was the moment. _The moment of truth._ “Your comrade here was acting on a programming chip that has been placed in the genetic code of every single clone that has ever been produced. If I give the word, every one of you could turn on the closest Jedi in a similar manner and try to assassinate them.”

“Is this some kind of Separatist trick?!” shouted Brasseye.

“This goes beyond such puny differences such as Separatist or Republican,” said Pallas. “This is a Sith plot to destroy the Jedi and to establish a new order in the galaxy. Very soon, this protocol will be issued. Every last Jedi will be executed by their own troops in the cruellest way imaginable.” Those words seemed to bring more horror to the clones than the treachery of Jesse ever could.

“But, that’s not possible…” Ahsoka defended. “The clones have been loyal soldiers!”

“Yes, all part of the programming,” said Pallas. “The clone army was built for perfect loyalty. No one would ever suspect their true allegiances to the Dark Lord.” The young woman who had been such a fierce general seemed to shudder even at the mention of the honorific.

Rex had been in deep contemplation this whole time. Recent memories of Tup and Fives came rushing through his mind. He remembered the desperation in Fives’ eyes and the smoking bullet hole in his chest. “Who… who is the Dark Lord?” demanded Rex.

Pallas fixed her gaze on the captain. “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t reveal that information to you now,” said Pallas. “I will however say this. He is strong and powerful. He controls the Senate, he controls the Jedi and his influence in the clone army cannot be underestimated. What the Jedi know, he will know too. He has spies in every wall.”

“So how did you come by this information?” asked Rex.

“My late husband, Admiral Wodin, had been Dooku’s right hand man. Amongst many ventures, he was responsible for developing the programming of the biochips that would exterminate the Jedi Order. Conveniently, he was gunned down in his first battle, but not before he could send a message of where to find his life’s work. We found it and set… all of _this_ ,” she waved her hand in the air vaguely, “whatever it is, into motion.”

“’We’? Does Ares know? Has he been a traitor this whole time?” asked Ahsoka, voice breaking.

Pallas looked at the Togruta girl with sympathy. “Partially,” she said. “After discovering the Dark Lord’s plan, we conceived this counter-plot together. I could not have done it alone. To thwart the plans of the Dark Lord, we needed to infiltrate both sides of the war and to help one another rise up in the ranks. It was our intention to steer the plot from within.”

“How?” asked Ahsoka.

“I’ll spare you three years’ worth of tiresome strategic details. The first step was to get Ares away from the Confederacy. In my husband’s notes, Ares’ was supposed to be a commander of the droid army and, after a lengthy mentorship with Grievous, become a violent Jedi-killer and warlord. Sith Empires need warlords and Jedi-killers and plenty of them. So, we arranged for Ares to be delivered into the custody of the Dark Lord’s enemies and I took my brother’s place instead. However, given that my brother’s acting skills are mediocre at best and that truth serum and the Dark Lord’s own powers at telepathy are not to be underestimated, Ares could not know of our own plot. So, we employed the skills of one very skilled scientist who would remove Ares’ memory of ever conceiving such a plot and plant false memories in his brain. When the time was right, I would return him to his original state. He’s in the other room … remembering… I hope.”

“So, Count Dooku’s banishment--?” asked Ahsoka, still confused.

“Was one of the false memories. Ares needed a story for why he wanted to fight for the Republic, both to tell himself and his allies. What is a more believable story to sell to unsuspecting fathers, forgetful sons and old masters than a child yearning for patricide?” said Pallas.

“But… he sent assassins,” said Ahsoka.

“Some of those were my doing, I’m afraid. To sell the story, I had to play my part as the obedient, patriotic daughter who wanted to rise up the ranks,” said Pallas. “Others, like Ventress, were the work of my father… the Dark Lord doesn’t tolerate weaknesses after all.”

“Why have you told us all this?” asked Rex. “What’s in it for you? You’re the daughter of a Sith Lord. You’d benefit from all this.”

“You are mistaken. My familial closeness with the Sith does not give me or my brother immunity from the Dark Lord’s plans. Though not ideal, an order under the Jedi is a better fate than serfdom under the Sith. Trust me, I would know,” said Pallas. “I tell you all this because I need your help.”

“Are we really going to help a Separatist?!” said Warhead, a young clone. No doubt his brain was boiling with all this new and unfathomable information. It was natural for him to fall back on information that he knew – such as the distinctions between Separatist and Republican – rather than grapple with the horrible truth that was before them. To see something, one had to believe in it first.

Perhaps it had been too much information to consume at once, but Pallas had had no choice. She needed them to know. “If you had sight of the bigger picture, trooper, you would see that the superficial labels of Republican or Separatist matters little in the grand scheme of things. This war was made for the Dark Lord’s rise to power. You’ve all been engineered for his plots.” She looked amongst her prisoners. “Don’t you believe anything I’ve said? Anything I’ve showed you? Your friend over there,” she pointed to Jesse whose operation was now over and he was lying on the table, slowly regaining consciousness, “would have killed your Jedi friend.”

“She’s right,” the heavy words came from Rex. The troopers looked to their leader for guidance. “Some of us watched Tup kill General Tiplar at the Battle of Ringo Vinda. I watched Fives die for this… he had discovered the truth… and he was killed for it! By his own brothers!” The words of their captain reassured the clones of the authenticity of this horrible truth. 

“That sounds like a fascinating story, but perhaps for another time,” said Pallas. “If you want to prevent your brothers from doing such mindless killing in the very near future, I must ask you to make a terrible sacrifice.”

“What kind of sacrifice?” asked Rex.

Pallas pressed a button on her wrist and the ray shield was released. The press of another button relieved Ahsoka of her force-restraints and her container. Though they all sighed a relieved breath, an air of uncertainty hung around them. The clones looked at their captain and commander to see if they would give the order to subdue the general, but none came… thankfully. Given these developments, none of them really wanted to. A few of the young clones ran up to Jesse. Pallas didn’t criticise them for the comfort of being close to their brother.

“Everyone in this room has fought too hard and too much for the galaxy to fall into the hands of the Dark Lord. It would have all been for nothing if the protocol is executed. I’ve developed a droid that will neutralise the effects of the biochips, but I don’t know if it will work because brain surgery of this kind is an excruciatingly difficult artform. I’ve made many prototypes and I’ve narrowed it down to these twelve. I’m almost 100% certain that one of them will be successful,” said Pallas.

“Then what were they… you… doing to Jesse?” said Hound, one of the clones standing by Jesse.

“The chips can be removed by a surgery of that kind,” said Pallas, pointing to the medical droids with their equipment at the ready. “But try sneaking those into an army and performing complicated deep brain surgery on millions of clones without the Dark Lord finding out.”

“What do you propose then?” asked Ahsoka.

Pallas reached into her long coat’s breast pocket and retrieved a long, silver box with what appeared to be tiny bugs inside it. “A droid small enough to be snuck in that can search for the chips and burrow through flesh like a bloodsucker to freeze them, rending it useless.”

“It looks like a louse,” said Rex, crossing his arms and looking at it with scepticism.

“That’s what it’s supposed to look like. The only conspiracy anyone will see if they find this is a conspiracy of lice, picked up from a filthy battlefield,” said Pallas. “…At least that’s what I’m hoping for.”

“So, what do you want from us?” asked Vaughn.

“It’s a terrible price I’m asking you to pay when you’re so close to being free of the biochip,” said Pallas, her hands trembling, shaking the box. “Here hold this, commander,” she said and gave it Ahsoka, not trusting herself to keep them safe. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “But I need to see if the prototype works before I can make millions of them and smuggle them into the Republic army. I need twelve of you to be a test subject for them. I’ve tried to mitigate the effects as best as possible, but I can’t confirm that all the test subjects will survive.”

“You sure know how to sell this thing, general,” said Joker, prompting a chuckle from the others.

“I do apologise. I’m a general of a _droid_ army after all,” said Pallas. “Tactful speech has become an arbitrary skill for me lately.”

“Let me put it in terms my men will understand, general,” said Rex and spoke to his men. “This could be the most important sacrifice of the entire war. It will save millions of our brothers and friends. We make sacrifices for the Republic every day on the battlefield. This one is no different,” said Rex and turned to Pallas. “With that said, I’ll be the first volunteer.”

The willingness of the clone captain to sacrifice himself so easily for his men surprised Pallas. Leading men by example on the battlefield or in this laboratory was brave. Very quickly, she had a whole platoon of brave volunteers ready to do their part for their brothers.

“35? Ok, too… many… there’s way too many of you. I only need 12,” said Pallas. “And captain Rex, you are not permitted to take part. These men will leave the ship soon and they’ll need a leader to follow. That cannot be Commander Tano or my brother – theirs is a different mission. You would be the natural choice.”

“I lead by example, general. If my men suffer death, then I must lead them to it on a frontline,” said Rex, defiant.

“Yes, but this isn’t a frontline. It’s a surgery,” said Pallas. “You are needed elsewhere.”

“Rex, listen to her,” said Ahsoka. She couldn’t believe she had said those words with regard to what had been their mortal enemy only an hour ago.

[][][]

Seeing as the whole platoon were willing, every third man was chosen to be a subject. Their names were Spearhead, Foxtail, Blackjack, Droidbeat, Joker, Jackal, Pascal, Artois, Hound, Brasseye, Warhammer and Goldfist. They were instructed to lay down on the operating tables. Each one was surrounded by their brothers and dealt with their likely death in his own way, whether making jokes or holding hands or making empty promises or even staying silent, waiting. These boys were bred for death.

Pallas came up to each soldier and set the bug upon each one’s head. Some of the robotic louse scurried across their heads, whilst others instantly burrowed. It was almost as if the mechanical parasites could smell the biochips.

“Those things are going to be easily spotted on the bald clones,” said Ahsoka, watching the process.

“An excellent point. I haven’t thought about that,” said Pallas. “I’ll make the coating the same colour as the clones’ skin when I mass produce them. They’ll have some camouflage. I can’t promise that every single clone’s biochip will be disabled.” They both stood back and watched the effects take place. “Uh… perhaps it would be best if you waited inside the ray shields, in case the biochips go off preliminarily. I don’t know what the effects could be.” Ahsoka nodded and followed the suggestion. Pallas locked her in.

Spearhead and Warhammer died instantly. When Pallas examined them, she saw that the chips had been frozen, but the clones had been unable to survive its absence from their brains. Pascal, Hound and Goldfist survived, but, as soon as the bug’s body fell from their head, as it was supposed to once it completed its purpose, their eyes rolled into their skulls, dead. Artois survived both entrance and removal, but his eyes searched the room for Ahsoka and he attacked, stopped only by the ray shield. He had to be stunned and subjected to the regular surgery by one of the medical droids, which he didn’t survive. Droidbeat and Brasseye did not attack Ahsoka but started screaming that they wanted to kill the Chancellor with the same zeal that Jesse had displayed earlier. They survived their standard surgery and muttered apologies for their fits. They didn’t know what had come over them. Jackal and Foxtail lost the ability to speak, though their brains, personalities and loyalties were functional. Joker and Blackjack were the last ones left and seemed to be unchanged on the outside. 

Pallas approached Joker and whispered the verbal command to elicit the order. He demonstrated a desire to execute it but seemed to be able to overcome it through sheer force of will. His face contorted and there was agony in his head. Pallas ended his suffering by shooting him with a stun shot and beckoning the medical droids to remove the chip with standard surgery.

She was terrified to approach Blackjack. This was the last one. The last hope. Do or die. Her body trembled in fear of it.

“General?” Rex prompted her to be brave. She took a deep breath, leaned in, and whispered the words into Blackjack’s ear. She stood back and looked for a reaction. The whole room looked at him for a reaction.

The clone trooper blinked.

“I don’t feel anything,” he said. He looked at the front and back of his hands. “Am I… doing something?”

“Ahsoka come here, please,” said Pallas and unlocked the ray shields. The Togruta approached the operating table and stood at the foot. “Look at the Jedi. Do you have any orders, trooper?”

“No, general,” said the trooper. “I feel fine.”

Pallas reached into the depths of her coat and retrieved Ahsoka’s lightsabres. She handed them to the Togruta. “How about now?” asked Pallas.

“No different, sir,” said Blackjack.

“Where did you get these?” asked Ahsoka.

“Ares’ replacement lightsabres,” Pallas explained simply. She stared at the trooper, thinking of ways that she could be wrong about this. “He might have a reaction if he sees a Jedi’s weapon being used. Ahsoka, ignite them.”

The green blade buzzed to life in her hand. Blackjack exhibited no differences in his behaviour or answering of questions. Pallas allowed the feeling of hope to finally enter. “What’s your name, trooper?” asked Pallas.

“Blackjack, sir,” he replied.

“I do believe we’ve found our cure, Blackjack. This is the One – the Blackjack Droid,” Pallas said. Some of the clone brothers erupted in cheers, whilst others cradled the bodies of their fallen heroic comrades in grief. “We are fortunate that all clones have identical DNA. I don’t imagine that his code would have been easy to override if there was genetic variation,” she pondered, muttering to herself. She clicked her commlink. “Unit B813, begin the production of Sample Number 7. I want ten million copies but change the plate to camouflage with clone skin colour… and bring 23 to the Operating Theatre. We’ll immunise the rest of the test subjects with the lice.”

“Roger, roger,” responded the voice of a droid.

“Where are you producing them?” asked Rex.

“I’ve built a facility on board my ship,” answered Pallas. She looked at the clones. “If you would be so patient, the lice will be reproduced shortly, and my droid will bring it here for you to become immunized and –" The commlink channel changed and the beeping of CL-Y came out, interrupting the general. “It’s finished?” Pallas asked, in disbelief. She received positive beeps back. “I’ll be right over.” Her eyes became glassy and a shadow of fear crossed her face, despite her best efforts to repress it. She focused her gaze on Ahsoka. “Will you come with me? I… don’t know if I can face him… alone. I fear what he will think. He could still hate me. His hatred scares me.”

“Sure, I’ll come with you,” Ahsoka said, watching the general cautiously. “But you must have been waiting for this moment for so long… and I know he has mourned you too. Do you really want me to be there?”

“Yes, I do,” said Pallas, her hands fidgeting. “I know… I just… I don’t know what I’ll find in that laboratory. He hasn’t been my brother for… a very long time. I’d feel safe if you were there. You’re the only person who could stop him if he…” she didn’t dare give words to her worst fear and shook her head, “Yeah, anyway, let’s go.”

“Ok,” Ahsoka nodded. She looked at Rex. “Stay put here. Wait for the lice.”

“Yes, sir,” said Rex.

[][][]

Pallas and Ahsoka sped walked across the corridor. The general felt her knees shake and her stomach drop as the door of the Laboratory slid open. They could both see Ares lying down on the table, as if on his funeral shroud. The mere sight of him even from a distance made Pallas take a sharp breath. She forced her shaking feet to take one step after another, until she reached the table.

As she drew closer, she noticed CL-Y bouncing on her two legs, looking between the two siblings and Vindi moving around and cleaning up the materials and equipment. His white doctor’s cloaks were bloodied. Pallas guiltily averted her gaze from her brother’s gore and look at his face instead, not noticing the nervous silence of the doctor. Ahsoka, meanwhile, kept her eyes firmly on the doctor that had, not too long ago, developed a virus that had almost killed her and Ares in an underground lab.

Ares looked dead. He was pale. His hair had been shaved off and the scalp sported harsh red lines that Pallas knew would heal quickly with enough bacta-spray. The restraints had been lifted by the doctor, but his hands and legs remained in place. His eyes were closed. The mighty warrior looked so frail. A shell of his true self.

She took his hand and realised that it was the prosthetic and felt guilt shoot through her like a burst of electricity. The memory of the day he left flooded in.

Pallas remembered interlacing her fingers with his and lifting the heavy arm up. There had been tears streaming down her face as she ignited their father’s red lightsabre and sliced through the young flesh. It had been agreed before the surgery that proof and a constant reminder would be necessary. For Ares to turn against his father and master, he would have to sport a devastating injury as testimony of his betrayal. Credibility was important if their plan was to go ahead. The sound had been agony and the smell had been putrid. After she’d done it, the heaviness was gone and all that she could see was a white, calloused hand clutched in hers like a sick, horrifying spider. She had been gripping it so tightly that the blood started trickling out even after it was cauterized. Ares’ face had contorted in pain, but he had made no noise. It had been an unfair burden to place upon her.

She shook the memory away. “Why isn’t he awake?” Pallas demanded of the doctor. “The operation is over, no?”

Vindi sighed and wiped his hands against a towel. “I have done vat you asked me to do. I have transferred the removed memories back into hiz brain. The operation haz been medically successful—”

“So why isn’t he awake?” Pallas said with gritted teeth.

“Operations like zis take time. Ze body must heal—” Vindi began his doctoral spiel, but then faced the barrel of Pallas’ blaster and shut up.

“He didn’t need long to heal last time,” said Pallas. “What have you done to him?!” Vindi stared at the gun. “Answer me!”

“Ze procedure you performed on him vas highly dangerous, not to mention illegal. Because of zis, it is not a perfected art… even by such specialists like me,” said Vindi, slowly and cautiously. “If he wakes up, he vill remember, but there iz nothing more zat I can do until he does.”

Wrath flew into Pallas’ eyes like a pack of wild dogs and she screamed at and threatened the doctor with incredible pain. “If you were incompetent, then you should have said so, you swine!” She even shot him once or twice in the leg to get him to continue the operation, but he moaned that it would be more dangerous for him to do anything more.

In the midst of this, Ahsoka bridged the distance between her and the head of the young man. His force signature was weak, but still there. She placed her palms on both sides of his bald, wounded head and focused on the Force, ignoring the noise around her. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me…” she whispered. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me… I am one with the Force and the Force is with me… I am one with the Force and the Force is with me…”

It was faint at first. “I am … Force and… is with me,” he chanted with her. “I am one with… Force and… Force is… me,” it became stronger. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me!” The brown eyes shot open and he bolted upright. Breathing heavily with panic, he looked at his surroundings until his eyes met Ahsoka, then Pallas and then Vindi.

“What… where?” he couldn’t even begin to form a question.

Pallas was startled. “Uh…” she looked from the doctor, then to her blaster and then at Ahsoka with bewilderment. “Shh… You are on board a friendly ship, Ares. Your troops are in the other room. Ahsoka is right next to you,” Pallas said and Ahsoka stepped forward to reassure him of her presence.

Ares turned to get a proper look at Ahsoka. A sense of calm washed over him from seeing here there. She was his anchor, his constant. She was alive. Ares grabbed her hand and pulled her to him to embrace her as if to assure himself that she was there, real, when so much was muddied inside his head.

“It’s okay,” Ahsoka promised him. “Everything is okay.”

“Do you… what do you remember?” Pallas whispered, keeping her blaster still trained on Vindi.

His breath was shrunken, and his face took on a look of existential dread. His hands pressed the sides of his head. The migraine was unbearable and the red gashes on his skull pounded from inside his head. “Everything… I remember… everything. The plot. The Chancellor…” his eyes were wet with tears. “… father. He- He didn’t fight me, did he?... what about Father? I’m so confused!” he demanded, and tears escaped him.

“No,” Pallas said. “He did not fight you. That was a false memory. I cut off your hand and you stole his lightsabre while he slept.”

“Palpatine… I… I’ve been in his presence…” said Ares. “… It was awful… I felt the dark side, and it was beyond anything I’ve ever felt...”

“I know,” said Pallas, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but then retracting her hand, unsure if that was wise. “I saw. CL-Y showed me.” She paused. “Do you… remember our plan?” she asked. “The full plan?”

“…Yeah. I remember it…” he said, shock and trauma in his eyes. “Skywalker… is the weapon.”

“Wait- what?” Ahsoka stepped up and looked at the general with accusation. “What about Skywalker?”

“I’ll explain later. I promise,” said Pallas. “One thing at a time, commander.” Ahsoka nodded, aware of the present chaos.

“…Father, master… our father… I’ve been plotting to kill him this whole time…” whispered Ares in horror, clenching his eyes shut. The insides of his skull were boiling, screaming.

A coldness took over Pallas. “Our Father deserves to die. Because of our Father, Mina Bonterri is dead. Because of him, countless others are dead too. If…” she paused. “If you do not end him, I will. Even if it takes the last breath in my body.”

“But we conceived my hatred for him out of convenience,” Ares cried out.

“And in that convenience, we have both discovered his true villainy,” said Pallas. She paused and spoke softly. “Ares, don’t you remember? We agreed to conceive of father as the enemy because he betrayed us. He did betray us. He chose the Dark Lord over us, his family.”

Ares looked at Pallas. “He chose the Dark Lord over us,” he repeated, as if convincing himself of that. The headache eased. Things started to make more sense. Everything began compartmentalising into their rightful places; the right and wrong, the false and true.

“He chose the Dark Lord over us. Don’t forget that,” said Pallas. She closed her tired eyes and suppressed the tears. “I’ve had to do so, so many awful things because of he chose the Dark Lord… more so than you could possibly imagine. I’ve done… so many awful things that haunt me every day and… every time I endangered the people I loved most… you, the Bonterris, Pompeii… I died a little inside, but that was our plan. Our grand plan to defeat the Dark Lord required… so much sacrifice.”

She reached out to touch his shoulder. There were few things she wanted more than to be reunited with her brother finally. It seemed that he wanted the same thing for he reached out and grabbed his sister and embraced her with crushing force. She dropped her blaster and wrapped her arms around him, weeping of the loss and tragedy that had befallen both of them in the chasm of distance and hatred that three years of war had caused.

“I’ve… done _so_ many mistakes,” Ares moaned. “I have been so wrong!”

“Not as many as I have,” Pallas whispered. “Force, I’ve missed you so much.” She pressed her cheek to her brother’s forehead. “I’m so sorry… for all of it.”

“Me too,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry too.” He let go of her, pale-faced and trembling. “Whose dumb idea was this anyway?” he laughed and cried simultaneously.

“Ours, remember? Fifty-fifty,” said Pallas, her voice breaking. She wiped the tears from her eyes. “We were both… so dumb. So incredibly stupid.”

“The stupidity is not over yet,” said Ares, letting go of his sister.

Pallas looked at the doctor. “You deceived me,” she said.

“No. I varned you about the risks and dangers of zis operation. You both vouldn’t believe me,” he protested. “It is not my fault zat he—” he didn’t finish his sentence. The smoking blaster shot through his chest silenced the doctor forever.

“What the hell?!” Ares barked at her.

“I cannot afford his price and he… damn him, I thought I’d lost you all over again,” said Pallas, hoisting her blaster back into its holder. “Come on, lovebirds, your troops are waiting,” she said.

“Can you walk?” asked Ahsoka.

“I’d better be able to,” Ares said. He stood up and immediately would have fallen had Ahsoka’s strong frame and build not supported him. “Thanks, commander,” he said, as he tried to get his brain to rewire the basic function of walking again.

“He’s not going to need to relearn how to walk, is he?” asked Ahsoka.

Pallas shrugged. “You think I know?”

“I think I got it,” he said, as he gradually let go of Ahsoka and stood on his own two feet, though he wobbled unsurely and stretched his arms for balance. She was there to catch him if he fell. “I got it.”

CL-Y beeped excitedly by Pallas’ side and for the first time Ares realised that she was there. He leaned on Ahsoka. “Traitor,” he mumbled and then looked at his sister. “How did you get the spy droid to me?” he asked, eyeing the red and gold droid from the table with mixed feeling. “It’s a military issued unit.”

“Wat Tambour owed me a favour after I gave him Ryloth. He has a few friends that owe him,” she explained. “CL-Y has been watching you and reporting back to me all that you’ve been doing.”

“…How much did she show you?” asked Ares.

“Everything,” said Pallas. “That’s the point of a spy.”

“Did she give you Republic intel?” asked Ahsoka, aware that the droid had had constant access to their computers, military data, movements, transmissions, everything. No wonder Pallas had won so many battles and risen up the ranks so quickly.

“Sometimes,” said Pallas, simply.

 _It didn’t matter anyway_ , thought Ahsoka, _this whole war is a sham._

“Zygerria… You didn’t have to send me to the interrogation, did you? You knew where Pompeii was all along,” said Ares. There were a thousand Republic secrets that droid had heard, and a million more questions Ares had for his sister, but their time in the slaver’s custody was one that stood out the most.

“Yeah,” said Pallas, swallowing bitterly. Zygerria had been… excruciating. “I knew where Pompeii was, but… you know… I had to keep up the charade. And I had to send you away before Father could get you. Sorry about punching you in the face, by the way, but you were being a little shit.”

“You’re apologizing for a punch? After all this?” asked Ares.

Pallas shrugged and looked down. “I was supposed to be… above it all, but I was angry. At everyone. And I felt guilty afterwards.”

Ares was silent for a moment as his mind rifled through the things he had done that sisters shouldn’t to see. “Did you censor anything?” Ares asked the droid, helplessly.

“I wish she would censor more,” Pallas muttered, shuddering. CL-Y beeped at her, apologetically. “Droid, understand this one simple fact: I don’t need to hear my brother’s lame pick-up lines and jokes.”

Ahsoka snickered. “Oh, so you had to suffer the punishment of hearing those, too?”

“Honestly? I had the option of turning off the hologram, but you? I’m sorry for what you went through,” said Pallas to Ahsoka, sympathetically. “That’s real trauma.”

“Can you two stop being friends? First of all, lame as they were, they worked and secondly, I had no idea that my sister was in the room. It’s not my fault,” Ares said.

“Come on, we should get back to the clones,” said Ahsoka.

[][][]

They re-joined the clones in the Operating Theatre. Ares was leaning on Ahsoka with much of his weight. He looked awful.

The medical droids had brought the lice droids and almost all of the clones were now sporting tiny scars on their temples where their biochips had been.

“Are you alright, captain?” Vaughn asked.

“Just a scratch, trooper,” said Ares. Ahsoka guided him to one of the empty tables to use as a perch to rest on but didn’t leave his side.

“What next then?” asked Rex, waiting for orders. The other clones had a similar look of anticipation for new orders. “Why can we not reveal what we found to the Jedi? My men deserve better than to think of themselves as deserters.”

Pallas regarded them coolly. They must have been talking whilst she and Ahsoka were away with Ares. “Because the Jedi have been compromised by the Dark Lord. Everything they know, the Dark Lord will know. They cannot sense his presence and they cannot stop his influence. Their minds and intentions are open books for the Dark Lord. And when I say that the Jedi have been compromised, I include your beloved general Skywalker. He has great affinity with certain members of the Senate,” said Pallas.

“General Skywalker is a wise Jedi and a good man. He should know about what is going on!” said Ahsoka.

“I’m afraid not, commander,” said Pallas, patiently. “The Dark Lord has plans for Anakin Skywalker that we seek to prevent. Alerting him about the protocol may be… counterproductive. And besides, who would believe you? Even when you witnessed it yourself, you had trouble believing it.”

“Ahsoka, if you told Skywalker that someone he knows, who he admires and has been watching out for him since he was a child, was a Sith Lord, what do you imagine Skywalker would do?” asked Ares.

Ahsoka sighed deeply, knowing the answer. It was Rex who spoke for her, “He would confront him… headfirst.”

“Exactly. Especially when personal feelings are involved,” said Ares. “I know he’s your beloved general and everything, men, but you know him well enough. This mission needs… tact and subtlety, which Skywalker is not known for.”

“What mission is that?” asked Jesse.

“Distribution,” said Pallas. “It’s pointless to know about the biochips if you can’t act on it. You boys are going to be very busy spreading these things to all your brothers on all corners of the galaxy. If the protocol is activated, we are all doomed and the Dark Lord will reign supreme.”

“Who is the Dark Lord?” asked Rex, persistent to know an answer to that terrible question. “If we are to go undercover, we need to know who the Dark Lord is.”

Pallas and Ares looked at one another, as if they had a language of their own. Pallas sighed and nodded. “Do you all agree to the mission?” Ares asked his troops. “The mission to save your brothers from committing mindless murder of your friends and allies for the benefit of the Dark Lord?”

“Sir, yes sir!” they chorused loudly.

“Sheev Palpatine,” said Ares the name dropping from him with a shiver. “He’s the Dark Lord. He’s been working both sides from the beginning. He’s orchestrated everything to play into his hands even before any of us were born. His plan is brilliant, but nothing is truly indestructible.”

“The Chancellor?” asked Ahsoka, ashen faced. “But… that’s not possible!”

“If only that were true,” muttered Pallas. “His plan was to issue the protocol, wipe out the Jedi and then frame them for treason before the Senate. You will find that the Jedi have a dwindling number of supporters in the world of politics. They are great warriors… sometimes, but poor politicians.” Pallas gave a pointed look to Ahsoka, who did not need to be reminded of their political ineptness. “Especially since the Dark Lord has been playing them.”

“The Chancellor has been a mentor to Anakin,” said Ahsoka, coming to the horrid realisation. “All this time, all these years, he’s been grooming him?” Pallas nodded, gravely.

“As you can see, if he knows what we are doing… if Skywalker gives him an inkling and the Dark Lord thinks that his plan has failed… he, or one of his agents, will issue the protocol early, even if it’s the last thing they do,” said Ares. “Every dead Jedi is a victory for the Dark Lord.”

There was silence as the clones processed this new information and the new treachery.

It was Rex who spoke up. “Then for General Skywalker, we will keep the secret and do everything in our powers to stop the Chancellor’s plans!” His brothers agreed with him.

“What would you have us do, general?” asked Ridge.

“I have ships waiting in my hangers. You’re all each going to take packs of these lice and travel to all the corners of the galaxy with them. You’re all going to blend into the battalions and free your brothers from these biochips,” said Pallas. “For the sake of this mission, we will need to fake your deaths to the 501st. When you don’t report back, they’ll suspect that you were killed in action. I will give you my private frequencies for you to contact me and each other.” She turned to Ahsoka and Ares. “You two have a different mission, though no less important.”

They wrapped up their most unlikely of pacts with a promise for treason against the Chancellor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> … So, any thoughts? Gives a whole new paradigm to the story, doesn’t it?
> 
> All you quiet lurker readers, I see you! Now is the chapter to make your feelings known to me. Please REVIEW!


	17. The Battle for Coruscant

#  **Chapter 17 – The Battle for Coruscant**

"Remind me again why we can't regrow my hair?" asked Ares, pouting. He was sitting on the operating table of The Laboratory. Vindi's corpse had been disposed of by now. A medical droid was applying bacta-spray to onto the red, pounding marks that remained of Vindi's work. It was strange to be bald. Ares felt almost naked.

"Because it would be a waste of time. Stop being such a drama queen," said Pallas, not lifting her eyes from her holo-pad and battle reports. She was sitting cross-legged on the other end of his operating table.

Ares looked at his sister. She could have easily read her battle reports in her quarters or on the command bridge, but she chose to come down here and spend time with him. She must have missed him so much. He couldn't imagine what the war must have been like for her.

"How did you stay sane?" he found himself asking her. His sister was not the same person he had left on Raxus and certainly not the same person he had fought the war against, and yet, paradoxically, she was a strange hybrid of both.

She was surprised by the question and it took her a few moments to think about it. She put the holo-pad down. "Honestly? I'm not entirely sure I am sane. Sleep is impossible. Food is tasteless. Sometimes, I swear I can hear my enemies creeping in the corridors, then I realise it's a droid patrol or something. I certainly don't _feel_ sane. I live in a confusing world where my true friends try to kill me and my real enemies call themselves my allies."

"I'm sorry," said Ares, feeling as if he hadn't said those words enough to her. "For not being there for you."

Surprisingly, Pallas smiled. "Oh, but you were. CL-Y sent me more than just the Republic's battle data. She sent me you, too. When I was alone, I'd have you with me, even if you didn't know it. Sometimes you'd chat to the droid and she'd live broadcast it to me. It was… almost like you were there."

"Glad I could help," said Ares, unsurely. "Did… did you ever hate me?"

"Ha! It would have been so easy to," said Pallas. "You spent the war in such enviable blissful ignorance. The person you loved was with you through most of it. You could tell her anything, your worst secrets, and she'd understand or at least try to. When I watched you make decisions, they were so… inconsequential by comparison to the decisions I had to make. Even before the war, you've always been lucky." She seemed to realise the dark direction of her thoughts and shuddered out of them. "But I didn't want to give the Dark Lord or our father the satisfaction."

 _Some daughter of the Sith,_ Ares thought amusedly. "Wodin would be so proud of you," he said.

The mention of her late husband's name made Pallas wince and curl up, hugging her knees. The dead man's long-coat, his constant reminder, seemed to engulf the young woman. "The war is not over yet," she said.

"No, but almost," said Ares. "How's father doing these days?" All these years, he had spent so long thinking about his vengeance, but not nearly as much time as he should have about the actual man.

A deep hatred sparked in Pallas' eyes. "He's developed gout on his left knee. Wakes up every morning at dawn. During breakfast, which is always vegetarian, he usually gets a call from me. Drinks his tea with two cubes of sugar. After that, he takes a stroll in the gardens. Usually he meditates for an hour before beginning his day. After morning, his schedule varies," said Pallas. "…It's depressing how much I know about him."

"Wow," said Ares. "I didn't even notice any of that when I was his pupil."

"You weren't planning his murder when you were his pupil," said Pallas. "And you certainly haven't been doing it well enough as a captain."

"I know, I just…" said Ares. "It's always been such an esoteric idea, almost a dream, to kill him. I don't think I ever truly believed I'd be the one to do it. I think I liked being a captain because it gave me something productive to do and yet distract me from my main goal. I can't explain it."

"You've never had a plan before," said Pallas. "Are you nervous, now that you do?"

Ares rubbed his eyes, irritated. "How's mom?" he asked, hoping to distance the topic. His head was so muddled that he didn't want to talk about any of this.

"…You are not funny," replied Pallas, coldly, and took up her holo-pad again.

"Lux said something like that too," said Ares. She said nothing, only continued scrolling down the pages of her battle report. Ares decided he didn't want to play games or tricks with her. "Do you want to talk about him?"

"After the war," said Pallas, more to herself than to him.

Ares wondered how many times his sister had said that line to herself. "Ok," he said.

"I like Ahsoka," said Pallas suddenly. "I think your taste in girls has improved considerably since you joined the Republic."

"Yeah, I figured you liked her. You did buy her as your sex slave the other day," said Ares.

Pallas rolled eyes. "She shouldn't have been running around with two idiots."

"Arguably, getting idiots out of trouble is kind of her thing," said Ares, smirking. "So, does she get the family stamp of approval?"

"Well, I don't know about the rest of the family, but the twin stamp of approval says 'Marry her, Ares. You're not going to do better'," said Pallas. "…Mina liked her too." It had been the first time Pallas had said the name since the terrible deed and a cold rush of guilt tore through her. Ares felt it and, wishing to spare his sister this difficult conversation, decided to press on.

"Thanks for… not incarcerating her when she trespassed onto Raxus with Senator Amidala that one time," said Ares.

The young general smiled weakly. "Likewise, thanks for looking out for Lux," said Pallas. "You didn't take CL-Y with you to Onderon, but… I can imagine he couldn't have been too happy to see you."

Ares felt they were delving into dangerous territory. He decided to change the subject. "Where's Pompeii?" he asked.

"I sent him on a scouting mission," said Pallas. "He'll be back before the battle begins."

"Should we tell him?" asked Ares.

"No," said Pallas, bitterly. "I thought about it often, but no. We shouldn't. Ever since our… adventure on Zygerria and the death of his mother, he's become devoutly patriotic. More than before. He wouldn't understand. He’ll think we’re traitors."

"Alright," said Ares. "You're the boss, little sister."

"Force sake, we have the same birthday," said Pallas, smiling despite her annoyance at their oldest point of discord.

"As far as I'm concerned, you were six minutes late for _my_ birthday," said Ares.

"…I've missed you so much," said Pallas, smiling at him.

Ares pouted. "It's not fun if you're not annoyed."

Pallas winked. "Exactly," she whispered. "So, I win." Ares shoved her with his elbow lightly, making her laugh.

The door of the Laboratory slid open and Ahsoka walked in, cautiously. "Am I interrupting or…?" she asked.

"No, no, come in. We're just having a stupid argument," said Ares, brightening up at seeing her. Pallas noticed his mood and gave him a that knowing look that annoying sisters were well versed in. Ares saw it and ignored her. "What's up?" he asked Ahsoka.

"The boys have been dispatched with the lice," said Ahsoka. "How's the head injury?"

"All done, sir," said the medical droid, packing up the medical supplies.

Ares touched the scalp, expecting to find some of the scars but found none. _Smooth baldness_ , he thought ruefully. "I still feel naked without hair," he moped again.

Pallas rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. "Why are boys always so precious about their hair?" she asked the Togruta.

"You're asking the wrong person," replied Ahsoka. She walked up to Ares. "I guess I owe you this back." She held out the curved lightsabre of Count Dooku. She had since reunited the crystal with the hilt.

Ares clicked his teeth and took the hilt, igniting the red blade. "Damn, I was just starting to get used to a Jedi's weapon,” he said and winked at the Togruta.

"I wish I could say the same about a Sith’s weapon,” said Ahsoka, rolling her eyes.

“Why? Too long for you?” he asked, boyishly immature. Ahsoka shoved him away, groaning exasperatedly.

Pallas imitated gagging noises in the background. “When you say stuff like that, it makes me wish Father donated you into a Jedi youngling creche.”

“Yeah? How’s being an only child like? Enjoyable?” asked Ares.

Pallas gave him a smouldering glare.

“We should go over our plan again," said Ahsoka.

Ares groaned. "Do we have to?" He hated their plan. Flirting with Ahsoka and annoying his sister were much more fun activities.

Pallas chuckled. "This is why she's a commander and you're not," said Pallas, smirking. She put the holo-pad away and pushed herself off the operating table. "Let's get started."

[][][]

"What would you do if you had to kill your master?" Ares found himself asking Ahsoka much later. "What if you were in my position?"

The question surprised Ahsoka. She tried to picture Anakin, kind and brave and noble, as a Sith Lord, a destroyer of worlds, and found the notion absurd. "I… can't quite imagine it," she admitted.

"Yeah… me too," said Ares, quietly. "I know it's not the same… I just—Forget it."

"No," said Ahsoka, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Talk. What's on your mind?"

And suddenly Ares was reminded of the privilege of talking. A privilege his sister hadn't had for three years and he felt guilty. "It's nothing," he said.

"An unmade mind is a poor ally in battle," she said, crossing her arms.

"My mind _is_ made!" Ares exclaimed. "I just have a case of cold feet. It'll go away when I see the bastard," he said and leaned forward to kiss her lips. "I'll see you soon." He turned away and started leaving.

"Ares!" Ahsoka called out to him, thinking of what she could give him. "…Good luck." His smile was the last she saw of him before he was gone.

[][][]

There was no light, except the glow of the moonlight through the stained-glass window, which threw its sickly green colour across the room. Ares stood in his father's dark chambers. The king-sized bed had not yet been made, a bottle of amber whiskey with a crystal glass was on the bedside table and the count himself was getting dressed in his walk-in wardrobe. Ares had decided to give his father the decency to face him dressed.

The young man had his lightsabre clutched tightly in his hand, shaking. He took a deep breath.

The old count stepped out and for the first time in three years Ares was facing his father. "So… you have returned home," Dooku said. His regal drawl rebounded off the tall ceiling of the room. "I sensed your conflicted feelings and guilty conscience the moment you stepped onto my threshold."

"You haven't tried to escape then," said Ares, tightening his grip on the curved lightsabre hilt. It was pitch black outside. The morning would soon be upon them and the Confederate Fleet would take off for Coruscant. _Dooku has to die before that,_ he told himself. _Father must die!_

"Escape? From you? Don't be absurd, boy," said Dooku as he turned to look at the face of his wayward son. He had grown from the boy Dooku remembered. No longer was this the face of a naïve 16-year old child unschooled in the harshness of the world, but a young man, learned and full grown. He was 19 now, a man. It had been a long time since Dooku had seen him.

Ares looked at Dooku. _Master,_ thought Ares, bitterly. It had been a title he could never bestow upon Obi-Wan – it wasn’t the same.

Dooku was still the stately count with his fine robes, his aristocratic face and his disciplinarian, dark eyes. The burdens of war and dark arts had made him older than before. The creases and wrinkles of his face were prominent, and the silver hair was pure white. Ares recognised the curved lightsabre that glistened on his belt: silver, curved and ornate. Three years ago, it had belonged to Ares. He had believed it had been destroyed in a duel that had never taken place. He wondered if Count Dooku ever looked at it and thought of his son, like he thought of his father when he looked at his own weapon.

"Why did you do it? Why did you sell out our family to your master?" Ares asked, desperate to ground the impending murder upon something tangible. "What could have possibly been worth it?" Of all his thousands of questions that had been stewing in his head, this is what he wanted to ask his father the most.

"Sell the family?" Dooku asked, puzzled. "I never sold the family."

"You sacrificed it, my sister and me - mother too, probably - so that your master could become powerful. Why would you do that?" said Ares. “Did you not love us all enough?”

Dooku looked his son up and down. "Would you like a drink, son?"

Ares winced at that word. It had been so long since he was called that. "No," said Ares. "I just want an answer."

"As a Jedi, I was always taught that power corrupts. Power is dangerous. Power ruins people and leaves nothing but ash in its wake," said Dooku. "They were disillusioned fools, as I'm sure you've become aware." Ares didn't need to be told twice about the Jedi Council's folly. "Power is safety and those who deny it are vulnerable to the worst of storms. It's a lesson I've always tried to impart on you."

"The storms come for the powerful and the weak alike, father," said Ares. "Only a fool tries to command the elements."

A smirk jumped to Dooku's bearded lips. "I seem to recall my old padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn, saying something to that effect. Has Obi-Wan Kenobi been schooling you in old Jedi proverbs, my boy? Has your time with the Jedi Order brought you enlightenment?"

Ares felt his shoulders sag. He had always promised himself to never adopt the ways of the Jedi. He had always felt disgust with himself when he found himself mirroring them. "Not really," he found himself saying. "They're fools being led astray. I've seen it."

The count laughed. "No matter. It can all be undone," said the count, outstretching a hand. "I can teach you everything you need to know again. You are my son. It is my duty and privilege to pass on everything I have to you." _What was it about fathers that made them so… persuasive?_ Ares wondered. _Was it the guilt that they inspired or the love that they baited or a macabre combination of the two?_ "I'm an old man. Soon, I will die. Everything I have, everything I've accomplished, can be yours, son."

It seemed like such a cheap, old trick: being wanted, being part of a real family, being provided for, being loved, but it was a treacherous temptation. _One that the Jedi Order had always been afraid of_ , Ares thought angrily.

"The Rule of Two…" Ares said feebly, weakly.

"Is obsolete," stated the count. "Soon, the galaxy will find itself with a new order – a Sith Order. Two Lords of the Sith will not be able to control the entire galaxy alone. My master will need us to bring peace to this ravaged universe. Join us. Together, we can build a new order. My son, my worthy heir, Darth Filius."

Ares thought where he had heard that epithet before. It could have been a dream or… no. It was on Mortis. He remembered dying, that feeling of a sleepless nothingness, a nameless emptiness. The Father, who had seen the future, had christened him that. He thought about his sister and their plot; with one well-placed holo-call he could stop the lice from being spread. Why did he spend so much of his own suffering trying to save a disillusioned order? He had come to them an orphan with gifts. What have they ever given him in return?

He thought of Obi-Wan. The man had vouched for him, stuck his neck out for him against his own order because he believed that scared, abandoned boys needed a chance, a guide in a terribly dark and unforgiving world. He thought of Anakin Skywalker, his recklessness, stubborn foolish belief that he could change the very elements that held the balance of the world. Finally, he thought of Ahsoka dying, watching her lightsabre fall from her hand and himself screaming at her corpse.

If he followed down this offered path, would she join him? He couldn't picture her being anything other than a Jedi but in name. Would he have to be the one to kill her or would it be someone else? Each prospect sounded worse than the other. In the past three years, he had built a family, weaselled himself into a nest that forbade family and attachment. How would he live with himself if he destroyed that nest? He thought about his twin sister, who had to break comfortable nests time and time again, and the haunted, unforgiving look in her eyes warning him of the horrors of her actions.

"If guilt and bribery is what you're offering me to hold our broken family together," said Ares, "then it's time to grow up." The red blade in his hand buzzed to life.

Anger flared in Dooku's eyes and the sound of thunder crackled in the room. "What is about to occur shall happen whether you will it or not," said Dooku. "You'd be wise to find yourself on the winning side."

"Win or lose," said Ares, as he got into a Soresu stance, "we'll all perish for the Dark Lord."

"I'll make short work of you, boy." The silver hilt on count Dooku's side flew into the old man's hand, the red blade hummed to life and the count launched at his son.

[][][]

"Rex? Do you copy? Rex, come in," Ahsoka spoke into her long-range commlink that Pallas had provided. She was inside the general's quarters on-board _The War God_ standing in a brown Jedi cloak that hid her face and lightsabres. It was a safe space where no droids or military officers would accidentally come in and find her.

"Copy, commander," replied the voice of the clone captain.

"Status report," asked Ahsoka.

"The boys and I have spread the lice to the 21st, 327th and 212th. Vaugh and Joker are currently working on General Fisto's regiment. Jesse and Blackjack are on Kashyyyk with General Yoda's men," said Rex. "Haven't heard from Knocker on Boz Pity yet."

"What about the 501st?" asked Ahsoka.

"We can't reach them. They're in deep space," said Rex. "We can't get to them until they land."

"Damn," Ahsoka muttered. "Where are you?"

"I'm on Coruscant working my way through the barracks, but there's isn't as many battalions here as we had anticipated. They've all been deployed to the Outer Rim Sieges."

"Pallas said that would be a problem," said Ahsoka, sighing. "It would be impossible to vaccinate the whole army."

"The boys and I will do our best," said Rex. "Good luck, commander. You got the hard part. We're with our brothers. You're with the Seppies."

Ahsoka chuckled. It was indeed absurd to be allies with Separatists. "Strange time to be alive." She looked at the time. "I have to go. The fleet is about to depart."

"May the force be with you," said Rex and was gone.

The young ex-Jedi fastened the hood over her head, stepped out of the general's quarters and looked around to see if there were any droids patrolling the corridors. Most battle droids had not become accustomed to her presence on the ship. The exception were the pilot droids. She didn't really want to cut down any of her hosts' soldiers without need. So, she snuck around corners and edges to get to the command bridge.

"I just got a report from Rex," said Ahsoka as she came up to stand beside Pallas. "About a million troops have been vaccinated."

Pallas took a deep breath and put her hands behind her back. "We're behind schedule," she said. "…Those will have to be the numbers we have to work with." She checked her watch. "It's time to take off. The invasion is already 6 minutes late. The dawn has risen." Pallas bounced on the heels of her shoes nervously.

"You run a tight ship, general," said Ahsoka.

The general smiled weakly. "You have no idea," Pallas said, before turning to her pilot droids. "Take to the skies. Set a course for Coruscant."

"But, general, Count Dooku hasn't been confirmed to be on board," said a pilot.

"You let me worry about my father," said Pallas. "Make contact with General Grievous."

"What do you want me to do?" asked Ahsoka.

Pallas looked at her and then at her usual seat. "Sit in that chair, rest and watch the show. Your role will soon be upon us." Ahsoka nodded and took a seat in what felt like a colossal throne. She crossed her legs, kept her cloak hood up and meditated, vaguely listening to Pallas' commands to her troops.

The bony figure of General Grievous appeared in a blue hologram. He coughed as a greeting.

"My ships are ready, Grievous," said Pallas. "Are yours?"

"Yes, but where is Count Dooku?" said Grievous.

"Change of plans, general. He's on board my flagship," said Pallas.

"That wasn't what we agreed!" Grievous roared.

"The plan is what my father says it is, general," said Pallas, sternly. "You can query his decisions with him after the battle, but you're going to bring the Chancellor onboard _The War God_." Behind her back, Pallas tightened her fist. "I have a special cell ready for His Excellency."

"If your ships are still in one shape, that is," Grievous said. "My fleet will meet yours on Coruscant then."

"Don't worry about my ships. I happen to be a good general. It's a theft, not an invasion," said Pallas. "Don't be late." She shut off the hologram. "Make the jump to hyperspace!" The battle of Coruscant had begun.

[][][]

Amidst their duel, Dooku felt the disturbance and looked around. Ares did too and grinned. "I sense it too. The fleet has left. You are not in control anymore," said Ares and slammed down his lightsabre at the old man.

Dooku bounced the blade away. "Obi-Wan has trained you well. It seems that my dealings with you are taking longer than anticipated," he said. With an outstretched hand, the green stained glass of the window shattered, and their piercing shards fired at Ares.

The young man pushed the debris away and when the debris cleared, his father had escaped through the broken window. Rage burned through his veins. _Coward,_ Ares thought. He force-leapt out of the window. Ares could see the count sprinting through the courtyard. He lifted a nearby crate and threw it at the old man. Whilst Dooku was slicing through it, Ares had enough time to force-jump into the courtyard and rush at him with a yearning blade.

The count stretched out his hand, unleashing blue lightning from his fingertips, but found startling resistance. To his horror, his blue sparks bled with red. The two elements crackled together, pushing its wielders apart from one another. The bricks on the courtyard's floor were uprooted and blasted away like heavy leaves in the wind. Dooku felt himself weaken from the strain of such a release of power and realised that his son had none of that fatigue.

In the smoke, Dooku saw two ruby red eyes watching at him. "Most impressive," said Dooku.

[][][]

The Battle of Coruscant was as violent and bloody as could be expected. Coruscant had not been attacked in thousands of years, but still had one of the largest bases of Republic cruisers and battalions. The Separatist fleet was the largest that had ever been assembled. Pallas and Grievous had planned the invasion to coincide with the Outer Rim Sieges where battalions that specialised in space battles would be occupied, but there was still much stiff resistance and heavy fire. Republic reinforcements were also pouring in from all sides.

"General!" a droid shouted out to her. "We lost frigates 3 and 15."

"Move the rear ships to cover their positions. Formation Echo 10. Use the debris for cover!" Pallas replied instantly. "We're here to steal, not stay."

"Sir!" another droid shouted out. "General Grievous has made contact. He says that he has the Chancellor."

"Send out fighters to cover him!" Pallas ordered. "Open the main hanger for him!"

"Roger, roger!" said the droid.

Pallas turned to Ahsoka. "I believe now is your moment.” Ahsoka nodded. "May the Force be with you, my friend," Pallas said as Ahsoka left the command bridge with the stealth of a shadow.

"You too," Ahsoka said.

[][][]

Dooku force-jumped out of the way of his son's sabre slam.

"I can sense your fear. Your panic at losing your power," said Ares. "You were dubbed the dark tyrant, father. A powerless tyrant now." He gave such a powerful force push that it sent Dooku tumbling off his feet and blasted him further and further down the earthy path of their courtyard.

Dooku coughed the dust out as he stood up and pressed the button on his wrist to summon _The Solar Sailor_ and its pilot droid to his position. "I see you’re using my teachings, boy," said Dooku. "Words can be as deadly as swords."

"And you're diverting focus," Ares growled, harking back to his training as a child. "If I were your master, I'd be pretty disappointed with you." He launched a sequence of heavy overhead strikes. He channelled his anger and fury into those hits, weakening his old, frail, physically diminished opponent. "I spent this war." Strike. "Fighting on frontlines." Strike. "Whilst you!" Strike. "Sat on your throne of bones!" Strike. "Like a weakling." Strike.

Dooku wiped his forehead. There was sweat everywhere. This duel was costing him greatly. His son was stronger than he had expected. His energy was leaving him. He wouldn't be able to sustain this much longer.

 _The Solar Sailor_ came whizzing overhead, but Ares had pressed down on Dooku too hard for him to make the jump. The count heard it come around and land a few yards away. Dooku stayed on the defence, deflecting crippling strikes and walking backwards towards the ship.

"You're not leaving, are you, father?" Ares mocked. The red eyes burned so angrily. "We’ve only just begun to have quality family time!"

At his first chance, Dooku pushed his son off and made a run for the final few steps to the ship. Blades clashed together, hissing. Dooku tried to kick him off his footing, but in that moment Ares kicked him in his left, gout-riddled leg, causing the count to yelp out in pain, swivelled the red blade and caught his father's wrists under its fiery blade, cleaving them off. Both hands and the silver lightsabre fell to the ground. The count shrieked out in agony and fell to his knees. Dooku looked up at his son, eyes begging for mercy.

"Give into your anger. Kill me and you will become the new Lord of the Sith in my place!" said Dooku.

The red eyes smouldered with anger.

[][][]

Grievous' ship landed in the main hanger of _The War God_. His metallic legs clucked out of the ship with the Chancellor slung over his skeletal shoulder. He had carried the old man from the Senate building and stunned him to make the journey easier.

Pallas' tactical droid was waiting for him with a large battalion in the hanger. _She really shouldn't have put so much effort for a decrepit old man_ , Grievous thought.

"Greetings, General Grievous," said the tactical droid. It had Pallas' insignia imprinted on his chest. "We have a cell prepared for the Chancellor. General Pallas is waiting for you on the command bridge."

Grievous gave the limp politician's body to the droids and watched them place it onto a levitating trolley and carry it away. After a moment, he began his journey to the upper levels. He pressed the button to summon the elevator to take him to the command bridge. The yellow beady eyes watched the light of the elevator speed down. He heard the chime and the doors opened. Inside was Skywalker's apprentice.

"You!?" the cyborg roared out. If she was here, Skywalker must be not far behind. He had not expected the Jedi to get onto the ship so quickly. This was precisely why he wanted to use his flagship, not Pallas'. He took two lightsabres from his cloak and ignited them, charging with a raging speed.

Ahsoka's green blades hummed against Grievous' but didn't spend too much time in a position where a cunning cyborg hand could stab her from the underbelly. Using her nimble size, she outfoxed and slid through Grievous' wide, but empty frame and ran out to the open hanger. Grievous barrelled after her, screaming, furious.

"Where do you think you're going, youngling?!" Grievous roared, coming closer. He helicoptered the blades in his mechanical appendages. There was bloodlust in his yellow eyes.

[][][]

"You summoned me?" asked Pompeii as he walked in through the sliding doors of the command bridge of _The War God._

Since that business with the Jedi on his mother's slave auction, he had been bent on vengeance against the Jedi, the Republic and, most importantly, Ares. The problem was that Pallas allowed him quarters and membership in her droid battalions, but no insight on ‘The Plan’ or any meaningful positions of command. He knew she had secrets that she wasn't telling him, strategies she wouldn't divulge, and spies she wouldn't name. Pompeii carried his hollow commander's badge on his lapel with deep shame. His ancestors would be disappointed.

Pompeii found the young general behind the workstation of the ship's first mate droid. The droid stood patiently beside her as she fixed the last motions of the system. _Control freak_ , he thought with amusement.

"Yes," said Pallas, without looking up or losing her concentration or momentum. "I have a job for you. The fleet is in your command," she said. Pompeii felt his body rise up in pride and he beamed. "I want you to organise the retreat," she added, and his face fell.

"What?" the Zygerrian barked, angry. "But… why? We could take Coruscant and end the war! Why are we retreating?! Why did we come all this way?!"

Pallas fixed a hard glare on him. "We have what we came for: The Chancellor," she said and continued rushing with the computer systems. "We do not have the resources or droids to keep at this invasion and neither is that what we came here for."

"If we press the invasion, the Chancellor will agree to whatever you want to save his people," argued Pompeii.

"You don't know the Chancellor very well, Pompeii," said Pallas, absentmindedly. "I need to go below deck. I'm giving the command of this ship and the rest of the fleet to you, Pompeii, and your orders are to organise the retreat of our fleet. Don't be a hero. I don't want a repeat of Kiros."

"This whole war… all I've done is bring defeat and shame to my people. All I've ever done is lose," said Pompeii, slumping his shoulders.

"Pompeii, I promise you, if you organise this retreat, it will be a great victory," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Her words didn't have their desired effect because he jerked away from her.

"Abducting an old man and retreating is not the stuff they'll write songs about," mumbled Pompeii.

"Abducting a very, very important man and regrouping is the stuff that will win the war," she corrected him. He didn't seem to budge. His pride had been hurt. She missed the simplicity and brainless obedience of droid commanders. "A good soldier follows his orders. You don't have all the information, but I do and I'm giving you the tactical order to retreat now!" she told him, losing what little patience she had left. "And that goes for the whole crew. Retreat is the order!"

"Roger, roger!" echoed a round of droids.

"Yes sir," Pompeii mumbled.

"Good," nodded Pallas. "They're all yours, commander." Then she ran off.

[][][]

The hanger was full of droids and they encircled her and Grievous from all sides, blasters pointing at her. They surrounded them and waited for their general's orders. "You want my lightsabres? Come and get them!" Ahsoka baited, focusing on the Force.

"Die Jedi scum!" he yelled out and slashed at her.

Now was the moment. She parried the blades and screamed out so that her voice rung through the hanger. "Execute order 99!" Grievous' eyes widened in confusion. "Execute General Grievous!"

She force-jumped away to land on one of the beams on the ceiling of the warship and watched from above as all the droids turned on their cyborg general. A sea of red blaster fire poured onto Grievous. The thousands of voices, repeating 'roger, roger!' over and over again were dulled by the sound of the blasters going off.

The cyborg deflected the firepower as best as he could. He reached for more lightsabres from his cloak, but there were too many droids. They overran him. A shot caught his wrist and dislodged a green lightsabre. He tried making a run, charging through the forces, and turning many of the droids into lightsabre fodder, but Ahsoka used the Force to lift him from the ground so that he would be an easy target for the machines. His armour was tough, but not impenetrable. The shell white turned into sooty black and broke off bit by bit until the sickly green pumping organs were exposed. It took one or two blasts to hit their putrid puss and incinerate them.

 _There,_ thought Ashoka, releasing a relieved breath. _Grievous is dead. The war is almost over._

"Commander?" one of the droids looked up at her with a loyalty that made her skin crawl. "What are your orders?" he asked. She couldn't speak for a moment, until her commlink with Pallas' channel beeping brought Ahsoka out of her shock. "Units, self-destruct!" Ahsoka commanded the droids below.

It was the flexibility of the Dark Lord that had made him so unstoppable. Order 99 had been programmed into the battle droids on the Dark Lord's wish in the event that his preferred plans failed. It entailed the shooting of all Separatist leaders, but there was one onboard that Ahsoka didn't want dead.

Every single droid said 'roger-roger', gave her a Republic salute, took their blasters, and shot their own breastplates. The legion of droids collapsed, simultaneously. Despite having fought those tin cans for the past three years, Ahsoka felt something sad in watching them collapse so mindlessly at the orders of an enemy.

The moment the last droid fell to the ground, the elevator doors dinged open and Pallas walked into the hanger with CL-Y following her. The general made a beeline to the remains of Grievous. She leaned down to its level and examined the smoking guts to truly believe that he was dead.

“You've done it," Pallas whispered, joy flying into her face. "You did it!" he shouted out to Ahsoka, who had just jumped down from the ceiling.

Ahsoka looked at the half a dozen broken lightsabres scattered around the floor which Grievous had dropped or that had been blasted into bits. _Trinkets and trophies of the vanquished_ , she thought disgustedly. So many Jedi that had fallen to Grievous. People that had suffered, whilst she had spent very little effort or her own suffering to end Grievous. "Yeah," she said, quietly.

"You're not feeling guilty, are you?" asked Pallas, turning to Ahsoka and seeing the facial expression of the Togruta. "Ahsoka, you've done what many could not!"

"I know. It's just… I wish it could have been done sooner," she said.

“Better late than never,” said Pallas.

Just as the young general said that, _The Solar Sailor_ flew in and landed into the hanger. Seeing Dooku's ship, Ahsoka quickly ignited her lightsabres and took a defensive stance in front of Pallas. The young general stared at the ship with fear. If her father stepped out of there, there would be no escape for her. There would only be death. A traitor’s death.

The doors of _The Solar Sailor_ opened and out stepped Count Dooku. His clothes were clean and finely pressed, the intricate cloak-strap of his cape bounced on his chest and his fingers were fastening a pair of black gloves. On his belt swung a curved lightsabre. He walked with an aristocratic elegance. He looked up. His face was solemn, stern.

"It looks like my worst fears have come true," he said, his voice deep and regal. Pallas hitched her breath. "I told you that I hated our plan."

Both young women exhaled a breath of relief. Pallas bent and leaned on her knees as if she had just run a long, endless marathon. Ahsoka put her lightsabres onto her belt and approached him cautiously.

It had taken only a few drops of blood, a sample of white hair and a good medical droid with a special syringe, which his sister had an ample supply of, but the face change was complete and his worst fears had come true. Ares had literally become his father. It had been a truly revolting procedure. He had been sick twice, when syringe pressed into his neck and when the spidery voice modulator went down his throat. He could still feel it, bobbing like an uncomfortable Adam's apple. The medical droid had prescribed drinking lots of water and discouraged consuming food for the next few hours. After the surgery, Ares had to go back to his father's closet and dress in the Serennian aristocratic robes, which had the smell of an old person. All in all, it was not a pleasant part of their plan.

"You look identical," said Ahsoka.

A smirk danced in the grey beard. "Fraternal, actually." That earned annoyed groans from both girls. "Oh, come on! I am entitled to make dad jokes now!" He approached Ahsoka for an embrace out of habit and found her backing away. "What?" he asked, confused.

"You're a 90 year old man right now," said Ahsoka, deadpanning. "Ares, I love you, but all I can see right now is Count Dooku. Unless you want another prosthetic, keep your father's disgusting hands off me." He gave her a look that was undeniably Ares' expression, but backed away.

Pallas saw that there was something troublesome in his eyes. "Is Father dead?" she asked, trying to gage what burdened him.

"Who's in command of the ship if you're here?" he dodged the question.

"Pompeii is on the bridge. I've given him orders to organise a retreat," said Pallas.

"Is that wise?" asked Ares.

Pallas ignored him. "Answer my question, damnit: is our father dead?"

He would not meet either of their gazes, his shame crawling all over him. "He's in the ship," said Ares, nodding into the cockpit. Pallas glared at him, grabbed Ahsoka by the shoulder and pulled her with her to _The Solar Sailor_. Ares followed behind them.

They stepped into the cockpit of the ship and Pallas' eyes fell onto the form of her father. He was so weak and fragile, lying on the floor of his own ship. She could smell the familiar putrid scent of burnt flesh and she saw the severed stumps on his arms. The brown eyes that had gazed upon her with disdain and disappointment so many times, were now full of anguish and dread. The strong proud warlord was now a weak, old man with no power.

"You spared him?" Ahsoka asked, shocked. Ares had yearned for nothing but patricide since she had met him. Now, when he had the chance, he chose restraint.

Ares looked down, shame in his face and didn't say anything. He had been so close, so very close of making his gravest of mistakes. The notion that he had even entertained the thought for more than a moment made his stomach roll. After all he… they… went through, he had thought of giving it all up, just for being called 'son'.

"Pallas…" Dooku whispered, reaching out with one of his useless stumps. He had been an old man when he had become a father, but he never looked as old as he did now. The wrinkles on his face were deep and the bags under his eyes betrayed exhaustion. All the hair on his head was pure white. He even smelt like an old man. Everything about him disgusted Pallas. "… I'm sorry… please," he pleaded.

A red shot fired from the depths of Pallas' coat and hit the old count squarely in the middle of his chest. Scorching with hate for her father, she said, "That's for Mina Bonterri."

Dooku's mouth quivered some last words, but they could not leave his throat. His body slumped on the floor and he died, silently.

Pallas' fingers shook. She had to throw away her blaster as if the instrument had melted to the base of her palm. Tears sprung from her eyes and she angrily tried to wipe them away.

"I married a man thrice my age. I ordered the death of a woman who was like a mother to me. I gave the boy I love unimaginable pain. I've been a warlord and a ruthless dictator over many people. I've done so many unforgivable things. All of this, I did because of this man and the choices he made. Every morning, for three years, no matter what part of the galaxy I was in, I would wake up on Serenno's dawn and holo-call him to see if some lucky, plucky Jedi had succeeded in killing him and every morning I was disappointed. I truly _hate_ him," she spoke, her voice wet with her tears. "So, why, of all things, am I crying?!"

"Fathers are…" Ares said, gravely. "Complicated."

Just as he said it, the sound of an approaching ship whizzed inside the main hanger followed by a crash and the screech of metal. The three of them ran out and saw a red and a yellow Jedi starfighter crash in the hanger. The glass cockpits opened, and two familiar forms stepped out.

"No…" whispered Ahsoka, seeing who it was.

Skywalker and Kenobi had arrived to rescue the Chancellor.

"We need time," said Pallas. "Buy me time… or all of this would have been for nothing."

Ahsoka looked at Ares' eyes gravely, both knowing what they had to do.

"Go… We'll buy you time," Ares said softly. They both stepped forward with their lightsabre hilts in hand. Behind them, Pallas made a sprit for the corridors to the depths of the ship.

[][][]

Ares of Serenno, Ahsoka Tano and a whole platoon of clones had not returned from their rescue and capture mission. They were impossible to track and Pallas' position had moved. Though neither Kenobi nor Skywalker had fully believed it, it was presumed that they had all perished on their quest. The Council had forbidden Skywalker and Kenobi from tracking them. The liberation of the people of the Outer Rim was more important than 38 individuals, whatever relationship or attachment the generals had for them.

So, it had been more than a surprise to see Ahsoka Tano stand beside Count Dooku with General Pallas running off behind them.

For the longest time, Skywalker stared at his former apprentice, opening and closing his mouth. "Ahsoka? W-what are you doing here?" His voice croaked at the evident betrayal. "What are you doing with _him_?" he said, this time stronger, glaring at the old man.

Both old man and young girl looked at one another. Their throats were dry. "It's a long story, Skywalker," said Dooku's voice.

"Quiet, you," Skywalker snarled at the count, igniting his lightsabre.

Ahsoka's face was pained as she watched her old master. She knew he wouldn't understand. It had taken kidnapping her and forcing her to watch a traumatic simulation of her own execution to believe the truth. Her master loved the Chancellor like a mentor, a father-figure. He would never believe in Palpatine's wickedness. How she wished now that Anakin had come with Ares and the platoon. He would have believed the truth when forced with it. How would they even broach the subject of Ares' disguise?

"Anakin listen to me, I'm begging you," Ahsoka pleaded, though she already it was futile. "This isn't Count Dooku - it’s a disguise. The Chancellor has deceived everyone. Palpatine has orchestrated this whole war. We've all been his pawns!" She must have sounded like a madwoman to the two Jedi.

Skywalker was stunned. "Why would you say that?"

"Because she's Dooku's new apprentice," said Obi-Wan with the coldest voice any of them had ever heard. During this exchange, he had found Grievous' remains. He must have concluded that Grievous had been the initiation kill. The Jedi Master ignited his own lightsabre. "I wondered if there was another reason Ahsoka could have left the order. It's all been a trap from the beginning."

"No, Obi-Wan—" Ares began, finally finding his lost voice, trying to dispel that misunderstanding, but the sound of lightsabres clashing stopped him.

Skywalker's eyes had a wrath that he had never seen before. He had charged at Ares like an ireful bull, but his blue lightsabre was stopped by Ahsoka's two green blades. She stood in front of her master, pushing him back.

Ares ignited his own sabre and the red clashed against Obi-Wan's charging strike. There was a need for blood in the Jedi Master's eyes and for the first time in that long day, Ares felt truly terrified.

[][][]

"How should we retreat, Commander?" asked the first mate of the ship.

Pompeii sighed. "Evacuate the rear ships first," he muttered, ruefully, and the droids obeyed him. The proud Zygerrian watched over the raging war zone with dissatisfaction. They had the advantageous position on the battlefield. They could score an incredible victory for the Confederacy. Whatever Pallas' plan for the Chancellor was, they would surely be much improved by more dead Republicans.

"Sir, the rear ships have been evacuated," said a pilot droid. "Should we jump to lightspeed?"

"Sir, they've stopped firing on our ship. It is likely due to us having the Chancellor onboard," said another droid. The temptation had been too sweet and too easy. The proud boy had no restraint when it came to blood and glory. He had been starved of those things for far too long.

"Move our ship to attack position!" Pompeii ordered instantly, without thinking.

"But the general said—" the droid protested.

"The general doesn't know everything!" Pompeii barked. "She didn't know that the Republic would stop firing on our ship and she didn't know we could have this opportunity. Now follow my orders, unit!"

"Roger, roger!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know everything you felt in this chapter – the ups and the downs. I got a lot of new readers writing reviews from last chapter – hopefully more of your let yourselves be known now.
> 
> Only two chapters left.


	18. The Dark Lord of the Sith

#  **Chapter 18 – The Dark Lord of the Sith**

Pallas barrelled into the command bridge with rage. They were not in hyperspace. Pompeii had disobeyed her orders. “What is the meaning of this!?” she screamed at him as soon as she saw him. Seeing their general’s wrath, the pilot droids around them all ducked their heads and didn’t dare utter a word.

“I saw an opportunity and took it,” said Pompeii.

 _The audacity,_ Pallas thought, disbelievingly. “You were given strict orders to retreat. Why didn’t you follow them?!”

“I evacuated the entire fleet, as you instructed,” said Pompeii, still confident in his righteousness. “But the Republic will not fire on a ship that has the Chancellor and Jedi on board.”

As soon as he had opened his mouth, Pallas had started giving orders to the pilots to retreat with the rest of the fleet. “You fool!” she yelled at him, somehow, impossibly, becoming more enraged than she previous was. For the first time in her life, she understood the instinct of Grievous to punch off heads in his rage. “I don’t care if you had sacrificed any of those other ships, so long as this one was safe. I’ll have you court marshalled for this, you thick skulled—”

“Uh, general?” a timid voice interrupted.

Pallas turned to look at the droid brave enough to interrupt her fury. “What?!”

“The cruisers are not firing on us, but they have surrounded us and boxed us in,” said the droid. “There is no calculable retreat that we can make, and we have sustained considerable damage. We are outnumbered 20 to 1.”

Pallas turned back to Pompeii, who seemed to shrink in size upon hearing that outcome. “ _This_ is exactly what I was afraid of,” she said with both disappointment and disdain. “Get us out of this mess. I don’t care how, think of something. I have a more pressing matters to attend to than your incompetence.” Pompeii immediately set about doing what he was instructed.

The young general thundered to the main holotransmitter and opened up a hologram of the Operating Theatre and the Chancellor’s cell _. Time to play with fire_ , she thought and took a deep breath.

[][][]

A spray of water from a showerhead on the ceiling brought the Chancellor back to consciousness. He had no recollection of falling asleep, but then he remembered the bright blue ring and the yellow reptilian eyes of Grievous. It seemed the cyborg had not trusted himself to capture a barely resisting, withered old man.

With his hands restrained, Palpatine had to blink away the spray of water in order to see clearly. The features of his cell became clearer. He was in a ray-shielded box, in a cell with force-restraints on his wrists and ankles. _Strange_ , he thought, _did Dooku not have more comfortable confinements?_ Expecting the Jedi to come and rescue him at any moment, he did not attempt to get free of them. Although, the temptation to test whether his powers were strong enough, along with the adrenaline-fuelled thrill of getting caught, rushed through his old veins giddily.

Palpatine took a sharp intake of air and let the sensation of the Force course through him. He sensed young Skywalker on board. His connection to the young man was unparalleled to any other. He put his head back and closed his eyes, imagining the chess-pieces coming together. He was so close.

The melodic hum of a hologram got his attention. He was expecting Count Dooku to appear before him, but instead he was facing the blue outline his daughter. “General Pallas, I command you to release me! The Republic would not tolerate this!” he puffed. His inner actor and politician came naturally to him. Dooku’s generals knew of a Darth Sidious and a Chancellor Palpatine, but it was imperative that they didn’t connect the two with one another. 

“Calm yourself, Your Excellency,” she said, with a cool, soothing voice, though he could feel that she was not at ease. Her fear and fury were pulsing through. It was delicious to the old man. “I wish to ask you something.”

“Then stop being a coward and come and face me yourself, instead of hiding behind holograms like a spineless Separatist!” he barked at her and made a show of trying to jerk out of the restraints.

“I think I’d be more prudent to stay up here,” she said, her face hard and focused. “Sith Lords don’t agree with me, Darth Sidious.”

 _She knew. The brat knew_! Palpatine had trained himself for such a situation. A situation of being found by those that he still needed for his plans but did not wish to be revealed to. Without missing a spare beat, he laughed aloud as if it was a joke and feigned confusion. “You must be insane, young lady. Me, a Sith Lord? That’s quite preposterous. Where have you heard such fantasy?”

“Count Dooku, my father, revealed to me your identity,” said Pallas, but he could sense that she was lying. Dooku would never reveal to her the identity of his master. He was too prideful and too ashamed to admit to his children that he had been a pawn of the Chancellor this entire war. “His holo-computer revealed to me your transactions. You orchestrated the war and have since been covertly manipulating both sides of it. There has never been a traitor more treacherous than you.”

 _She’s lying,_ he thought as she spoke. The transactions were always done on secreted frequencies and he had never revealed his face or identity in them. She must have known less than she showed.

He gave her a condescending look, as if she was stupid. “Well, a man as insane as your father will have many fantasies to explain his grave sins,” said Palpatine. As he talked, his powers reached out and tried to search through the girl’s mind. He closed his eyes as he did so to focus better with the strain of distance that holograms caused his powers. “Blaming the other party for one’s wrongdoing is a petulant child’s trick. I have absolutely no doubt in the Jedi—”

“You gave me the order to invade Coruscant,” she interrupted. _Show me, child…_ the cold whisper shivered down her spine. _Show me everything you know._

“It…” she staggered back, clutching her temple. She had been training to resist that violent prodding for years. Her father and brother had always tried to riffle through her mind at their leisure. The mental exercises and training jumped forward out of instinct. She pictured a candle flame burning. She pictured the smoothness of the stick, the drip of the molten wax and the brightness of the flame. She had to imagine the flame, keeping it steady, strong enough to breathe and not so strong as to spiral into a wildfire, a balance. So long as she focused on it, the candle was all the Dark Lord could have access to. _Just a little longer,_ she promised herself. “It was you…” she spoke, mentally scribbling the words into the wax stick. “…who wanted chaos… term is expiring… an invasion… a war… would give… you… ultimate powers.” The strain of resisting the Dark Lord’s penetrative force abilities was becoming too much to bear even on a strong mind.

Palpatine doubled his efforts and strain. He would not admit anything until he knew all her cards. “The will of The Senate is its own. I am merely a servant of my people,” he said, his voice completely steady, despite his struggle of his opponent.

With the controlled, steady flame burning, shadows started to dance behind it for the Dark Lord to see. Shadows of a biochip being implanted into the brains of babes. _Think critically!_ Shadows of troops shooting swordsmen. _Never trust a Sith._ Shadows of a burning funeral pyre. _My notes… you’ll find everything you need to know there… my droid will know the security codes…_ Shadows of a boy and a girl huddling together over a black and white chessboard, whispering of plots and treasons. _Palpatine is the selfish King, the Chosen One is the used Queen, the Senates are the hard-headed Rooks, Father the evasive Bishop, the Jedi the sacrificial Knights and we must hide as pawns. Cross enemy lines in plain sight._ Shadows of a tyrant falling. _The Dark Lord and his plots will perish!_ Then the candle burst in an explosion of hot wax and flame and the Dark Lord was forced to retreat, screaming in agony at the mental burns.

“How do you know of such things?!” he screamed, feverishly, ignoring the breaking of character. “The Admiral… that filthy traitor!” he realised with a snarling anger. “He died three years ago… I made sure of it!”

Pallas ignored the confession. “It seems you’ve broken your character, Lord Sidious,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Your skeletons have risen to drag you into their graves.”

His response was laughter, true and poisonous. “In this scenario, child, you are the villain. Your fleet is ripping through Coruscant as we speak tearing down homes and people’s lives. There are Jedi on board coming to cut down what remains of your family and free me from this bondage. They’ll kill you too, general. Who in the galaxy is going to believe your outlandish ideas, child?”

[][][]

Somewhere in that vast expanse of the battleship between Pallas and Palpatine, Ahsoka and Count Dooku were fighting for their lives.

“Anakin, please listen to me!” Ahsoka shouted at her master, parrying away his blows. “Let me explain!”

There was a frightening determination in his eyes. A determination she had seen only when her master was fighting scum that threatened the Republic. She had become one such scum that was threatening the Republic.

“I won’t let him take you away from me!” Anakin roared as their blades hummed together. The most unrestrained anger thumped inside him like an iron hammer. “I’ve watched you turn to the dark side before! I won’t—“ Strike. “Let it—” Strike. “Happen again!” Strike. 

‘Count Dooku’ had chosen a different tactic with Obi-Wan. Rather than appealing with emotions, he tried reasoning and negotiations. “I wish you could give me half an hour to explain everything, Obi-Wan,” he said, noticing, perhaps too late, that his newfound deep voice made him sound more menacing than he intended.

“You’re poison,” Obi-Wan growled hatefully. “You poisoned Ahsoka! I won’t let you poison anyone else!”

“Going forth guns blazing and exploding is Skywalker’s usual folly,” said Ares. He prayed upon Obi-Wan’s pragmaticism, but there was an anger in the Jedi Master that Ares had never seen before. The cooled pragmatism was gone the moment Obi-Wan saw Ahsoka standing beside their enemy. “I don’t want to hurt you, Obi-Wan!” Ares cried out, but the Jedi wasn’t even listening to him.

They locked blades, parried, swivelled and clashed again. Ares pushed the blue blade off and then unleashed his signature red lightning out of his fingertips. Lacking the speed and weighed down by his dark feelings, Obi-Wan could not deflect the incoming current. The flash caught the Jedi and threw him back, against the wall. Ares winced as his mentor fell to the floor, unconscious.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin screamed, terrified of sensing his master be defeated by the count. He pushed Ahsoka back with the Force and leapt onto the old man with a need for blood in his eyes. Blue and red humming blades clashed together.

“Master!” Ahsoka shrieked out, having recovered from the force-push and joined her green sabres into the fray.

[][][]

Pallas’ eyes flittered to the green light on the holo-transmitter’s switchboard and then back at the Chancellor. Her mouth was dry.

“Did you hear me, girl?” Palpatine demanded, annoyed by her silence. His voice was a strange mix of paranoid high-pitched screech and sadistic pleasure. “Who will believe you?”

“You’re right. Absolutely no one will believe me. Your agents are crawling all over the Senate, ready to cover up any mistake. Anyone who finds out the truth will be accused of treason. No one in the Separatist Parliament will believe that the Chancellor is manipulating them,” said Pallas, “which is why I won’t be telling them.”

Palpatine crooked an eyebrow. “Not much of a plan then, is it, girl.”

“I’ve wanted revenge for so much and for so long,” said Pallas. “Your actions have ripped open wounds that will never heal… I’ve never wanted anything as much as I’ve wanted vengeance.”

Palpatine laughed. “Revenge? That I know well, child. It is the great feeling in the world to rip away the most precious thing your enemy has. Watching them crumble without it is… exhilarating,” said Sidious, instantly.

“For you, my lord of the Sith, the most precious possession is power. And the destroyer of power is an angry, cheated rabble,” said Pallas, watching Palpatine’s face closely. “I obtained access to the long-range, public frequencies from some new allies and equipped my ship with a powerful transmitter. Every part of our conversation,” she twirled her index finger in a circle between the two of them, “every word we have both just said has been live broadcasted to the entire Inner Rim. It will spread to the rest of the galaxy like a wildfire. Your dreams of an empire will never come to fruition and you will never know power again.”

She did not need to see or have use of the Force to know Palpatine’s wrath.

A sharp tightness that was not fear coiled inside her throat. It was acidic and she could feel the fleshy tissue burn inside. She tried to clutch at it, but there was nothing there. Her feet lifted from the ground. There were black spots pounding in her sight and there wasn’t enough oxygen to breathe. She looked at the old man on the hologram who had not moved a muscle except the ones necessary to make the hateful look upon his face.

“Then, execute order 66,” he lashed out.

She would die there. There was no way out and nothing she could fight. She imagined the organs inside her torso crashing like the machinery of a breaking droid or ship. She thought about death, the black nothingness that awaited her.

Then it was over and Pallas of Serenno fell to the ground.

[][][]

Mas Amedda and Sly Moore had been watching the entire recording from the Chancellor’s office. The whole galaxy was watching their master be exposed by the girl and his plots laid bare for everyone to see. When he uttered the words for Order 66, they both knew what they had to do.

Moore dislodged the mass broadcast from the holotransmitter and typed in her security codes. Amedda swiftly made the recording and they sent the briefing to every clone commander in the Republic Army.

“By order of the Supreme Chancellor, execute Order 66,” Mas Amedda said. His forked snake tongue slithered around the words.

The Jedi had to be exterminated at all costs.

[][][]

The galaxy seemed to have stopped moving. The Force of death was felt by every Jedi. It was unlike anything anyone had ever felt before. To describe it best, it was as if an invisible hand had reached out with a searing heat and clutched the heart in every breast and pulled through the ribcage.

The three duelling warriors in the main hanger of _The War God_ stumbled back in unfathomable pain, each clutching at their chest to try and understand what that feeling was.

[][][]

“Are you alright?” Pompeii’s voice sifted through her consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open and saw the dilated cat pupils of the Zygerrian staring at her.

“What happened?” she croaked painfully and felt her damaged throat. The oxygen was coming back to her lungs and the blood into her head. It was dizzying. Her temples were hammering, and she pressed down upon them with the palms of her hands.

“I shut off the recording and hologram,” said Pompeii. “I thought if he couldn’t see you, he wouldn’t be able to use the Force… or something. Who was that?”

She was impressed. “That was some quick thinking, buddy,” Pallas said. He had just saved her life and she suddenly felt very guilty for shouting at him earlier. “Have we retreated?”

“We can’t. We’re cut off,” said Pompeii, remorsefully. “We are crash landing onto the planet.”

“How?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Pompeii, helplessly. “One minute we’re okay-ish and then suddenly something explodes. I look at you and you’re being straggled by your little friend down there. Who the hell did you bring on board?”

“The Chancellor,” said Pallas simply, busy thinking of their options. “Are the ray shields holding in the Operating Theatre?” she asked the whole bridge.

“No, general. We’ve lost manual control of the whole detention block,” said the pilot droid. “The prisoner has likely escaped.” _Through his own force of will Palpatine just… crushed ray-shields and steel,_ Pallas marvelled fearfully,

“Sir!” another droid got her attention. “The temperature of the ship is drastically rising.”

“What?” she asked.

Pompeii clambered to check computers. “We’re entering the atmosphere and we’re burning up from the inside,” said Pompeii. “At this temperature, the walls will start melting.”

Pallas’ eyes narrowed. “And everything between them,” she said, grabbing her commlink and dialling her brother’s channel.

[][][]

“What is that?” Anakin groaned, confused, on his knees. He was reeling from the impact of the force of death. “I heard… them calling out… hundreds of voices.”

“That’s Order 66, master,” Ahsoka answered, herself in tremendous pain. “That’s the Chancellor, the Sith Lord, executing Jedi across the galaxy.”

Ares was about to add something when his Confederate-issued commlink beeped with his sister’s channel. “We broadcasted the recording. Sidious is exposed,” Pallas spoke with incredible speed. “He’s broken out of his cell and heading towards you. The ship is collapsing and melting.” Ares didn’t respond. “Ares, do you copy?!” Silence. Nothingness. “Ares, this isn’t funny! Come in!”

Ares didn’t answer because into the main hanger stepped the Chancellor. A golden lightsabre was clutched in his shaking fist and his eyes were scorching yellow with rage and hatred and violence. Three of them stared.

“He’s here, Pal,” Ares answered quietly. “He’s come.” He paused. “…I love you, sis,” he whispered and turned the commlink off, lightsabre up.

[][][]

“What should we do?” Pompeii asked his general. For the first time in his life, he was happy that he was not in charge. Why had he ever wanted command? This was terrifying. They were all going to die. They couldn’t board a ship to escape. Even if they tried to make a run for one of the hangers, it was very likely that they would be roasted alive before they even got anywhere. Their options looked desperately dim.

Pallas stared at her commlink, where her brother’s voice had just cut off. There was nothing she could do about Palpatine now. It was up to them. “We need to land the ship,” she said.

“How? We barely have control of it,” said Pompeii.

Pallas ordered a droid to vacate the first-mate’s computer and sat behind it. Pompeii dropped to the second-in-command’s seat and computer, ready for orders. “Let’s see how much control we do have. Open everything to cool the ventilating system if you can,” she said. “I’ll divert all power to magnetize the engines,” she said to Pompeii. “Come on, old boy. Don’t fail me now,” she said affectionately to the ship.

[][][]

The ship was plummeting to the ground and they could all feel it burning up.

Ares looked around. Amidst the dismantled droid corpses, there was only one ship in the hanger, _The Solar Sailor._ All the others had been used by the clones when they were dispatched with the lice droids. If Sidious got to it, he could make an escape. If they got on it, they would lose track of him in the havoc and he would likely find another way off this death-trap. Ares looked at the unconscious form of Kenobi. He lifted his mentor onto the ship. “Ahsoka… the droids,” he called out to her.

Seeing what he was doing, Ahsoka immediately pushed the two astromechs into the ship too. “Get out of here,” Ahsoka said quickly to R2. Within moments, one of the astromechs had connected to the ship and it flew out of the hanger. They would get it to safety. The four warriors had more pressing matters here.

“Chancellor Palpatine…?” Anakin said with disbelief. “I don’t… I don’t understand…”

“Yes, Anakin, it must be confusing for you,” said Palpatine, his voice barely suppressing his rage. “Let’s get off this ship and I will explain everything to you, my boy.”

“Master, don’t listen to him!” Ahsoka shouted out to Anakin. “He’s the Dark Lord! He’s been using everyone, master! He’s been using you from the start! He’s the Dark Lord of the Sith!”

Palpatine’s patience had evidently been bled dry by Pallas. In his blind rage, he sent a torrent of blue lightning at Ahsoka. Though she drew up her two green lightsabres to block it, the force of the blast pushed her back several yards.

“Ahsoka!” Ares screamed out and fired his own red lightning at Sidious. Ares’ attack diverted Sidious’ and drew it to himself. The red and blue electricity burned around them. The blasts ripped the floor of the ship apart. Everything around them was aflame.

“You must choose, Skywalker!” Ares screamed, with Count Dooku’s face and voice. He felt his powers draining. The exhaustion and sheer drain were crippling. “Choose now!” he screamed.

The confusion and betrayal by all parties rendered Skywalker immobile.

“Master, please!” Ahsoka’s voice added to the chorus of confusion. “He’s the Dark Lord!”

It seemed impossible. Nothing made any sense. The stifling heat did not help. Anakin’s mind and vision clouded with black spots. His nose and mouth filled with soot and ash and heat. Flames were licking up his legs. He could hear the infrastructure of the ship’s whale-like groaning. Most of all, his brain boiled.

Ares couldn’t do it anymore. His fingers were charred black, his metal hand had malfunctioned from the strain of the current, and all the power was sapped from him. He couldn’t go on – there was just no more juice left in him. The fiery, electrical explosion died. When Sidious saw the old man fall to his knees, he grinned and fired another torrent of blue lighting. Before it could reach Ares, Ahsoka force pulled him out of the way of the blast. Furious, Sidious fired at her and Ahsoka, out of pure instinct, pushed them away with force shields that deflected the current away.

“Anakin!” He didn’t even know who was screaming at him anymore. They all were. Anakin put his hands over his ears and closed his eyes. All he needed was a little time to focus. “Skyguy, just trust me!”

Seeing Ares comatose and her master motionless terrified Ahsoka more than anything ever had. She would not be able to resist Sidious’ lightning for long. She ignited her sabre and force-jumped to strike Sidious. There was still some fight in her. _The War God_ would crash eventually. She just had to keep Sidious occupied long enough for the collision.

The red and green sang together. The old man was so much faster and deadly than his appearance suggested. His blade struck, spun, weaved, and twisted with a speed that Ahsoka had never seen before. The evil cackling and shrieking were so disorientating, and the flames engulfed everything. Her senses, even the finely tuned ones of a Togruta, were distorted. She was no match for the Dark Lord.

Finally, the red blade slashed through her two lightsabre hilts, severing them in half. She saw Sidious’ wicked, victorious grin and the glowing red blade swung down. She didn’t even have time to close her eyes or prepare for the fatal burn.

It never came. Ahsoka looked to her side and found her master stretching out his hands and force-holding Palpatine’s lightsabre mid-strike. Quickly, Ahsoka jumped out of the way. Anakin jumped forward and collided blades with Sidious’ suspended one. He pushed it forward, so that the crossed blades hovered over Sidious’ throat and he pushed down, thus slicing the old man’s head clean off in one swift motion. The Chancellor’s head dropped to the floor and the rest of him followed suit.

Anakin Skywalker turned his gaze on Ahsoka and then the comatose body of the count.

“We have to get out of here,” Ahsoka said, quickly. They would crash any second now. She could see Coruscant’s daylight streaking across the flaming hanger. “Out that hanger door!”

Anakin nodded, wordlessly, and he slung Dooku over his shoulder. They started running to the edge of the hanger’s entrance. The ship was burning up on the outside, but they were less than a three-hundred feet from the surface of a runway. A good enough distance for a force jump. _They’d made more perilous jumps before,_ thought Ahsoka. They cushioned their landing with the Force and rolled on the tarmac from the impact. Anakin let go of the count.

 _The War God_ finally crashed and skid across the surface screeching and flaming. A wrecked remain of a proud warship. A few Republic fighters had trailed behind the warship with water jets to cool it down. Ahsoka and Anakin sat up to watch the flaming chaos. 

“Eh, I’ve seen worse landings,” said Skywalker dryly.

Maybe she was just in shock, but Ahsoka sniggered and lay back, pressing her fingers into her eyes. She had the urge to scream aloud, but her lungs felt raw, smoky. She couldn’t believe they were alive.

She turned her head and looked at the unconscious old man lying a little distance away. His finely pressed robes were blackened with ash and soot. The grey hair and beard that had been artificially engineered by a medical droid was singed and scorched. There were horrific burns and spots of blood everywhere and the gloves that were supposed to hide his prosthetic had burnt off. The prosthetic itself looked wrecked.

“Ares,” she hissed at him. She dragged herself across the tarmac floor closer to him. “Can you hear me? Wake up! Wake up damn it!”

Her master looked at her. “A-Ares?” he asked in disbelief.

“It’s a really, really long story, master,” said Ahsoka, as she slapped the Count Dooku’s face several times. She pressed two fingers to his neck and make sure the heartbeat was indeed there. It was, though faint, but the brown eyes did not open.

Anakin nodded, pretending to understand. “Okay….” He said. “I trust you.”

She stopped her attempts at waking up the count and looked at her master earnestly. She took a deep breath. “Thank you, master,” she said. “I know nothing must make sense to you, right now, Anakin, but I promise I’ll explain everything in due time.”

“What… what did I just do?” asked Anakin, shaking. The shock of everything seemed to only just hit him. He had just trusted her, blindly, ignoring that he had just duelled her and her seemingly new master for what felt like hours. He had to make an on the spot decision and he had chosen _her_ without knowing all the facts. He had acted out of impulse. So often he had been berated for acting out of impulse. So often the Masters said impulse leads to mistakes. Had he made a terrible mistake then?

“You just beheaded the Lord of the Sith, Anakin,” said Ahsoka. “I think you just brought balance to the Force.”

“Palpatine… was a Sith Lord… all along?” asked Anakin, mouth dry. “And no one knew?”

“I was shocked too,” said Ahsoka. “He had us all fooled. He was using you from the start, but it’s okay now, Anakin, it’s all over now.” She lifted herself off the hot concrete, wincing at the burns all over her body. Somehow, she had only just become aware of them. The boiling tarmac and Coruscanti mid-day heat were not helping.

“If that’s really Ares, we should get him to a med-bay,” said Anakin, gesturing to the comatose count.

“Except… no one can know this isn’t Count Dooku,” said Ahsoka. Her skull and everything inside it felt so hot and yet, strangely, she could still remember the details of their plan. “We still have to end the war… only Count Dooku can… rally the Separatist for peace. Or at least, transfer power elsewhere.”

She stood up on her two feet. Oxygen and a light cool breeze had never tasted so sweet before. She leaned down, gripping her knees. She noticed for the first time since they leapt out that she no longer had any lightsabres. Neither did Ares. 

“What about the real Count Dooku?” asked Anakin, getting up himself. He could hear the gunships flying towards them to pick them all up. “Won’t he have something to say about that?”

“The real Count Dooku is dead, master,” said Ahsoka. “So is Grievous. And now, thanks to you, so is Sidious. We can end the war now if we work quickly… and if Pallas survived that landing.”

“What do you need?” asked Anakin. “What can I do?”

“We need to get Ares, or well Dooku, and Pallas off Coruscant, to Raxus,” said Ahsoka. “Because of the Chancellor, chaos is about to break out everywhere, if it hasn’t already. While the Jedi establish peace in the Republic Senate, Ares and Pallas need to make sure no one else takes over the Separatist government.” The gunships were above them. “Anakin, Count Dooku needs to go to Raxus,” she told her master forcefully.

The gunships touched down. Clones spilled out with their rifles and trained them on Count Dooku. “Sir?” said their lieutenant. “You alright, sir?”

“Yeah, trooper,” said Skywalker, unsurely. “Take us to that crash-site.”

“What should we do about him, general?” asked the lieutenant, gesturing to the old man.

Anakin looked at Ahsoka and the look on her face. Anakin didn’t like it. _Great, another Rako Hardeen escapade,_ he thought to himself. “Tend to his and Ahsoka’s wounds and take us to that crash site.”

Every Republic gunship was equipped with an emergency first aid kit. As soon as the gunship lifted from the ground, one trooper began tending to her burns and another clone set about keeping the old man alive. It occurred to Ahsoka that all these clones were lice carriers, vaccinated by Rex and his boys. She wondered if anyone had even heard about Order 66 yet and how many had perished. Those in touch with the Force might have felt the deaths, but they wouldn’t have known what any of it had meant.

The clone struck a syringe into Dooku’s neck and within seconds the brown eyes shot open. He breathed heavily, panicked, clutching for things around him. A lightsabre perhaps, that was now amongst the wreckage of the warship. The squad around them all trained their rifles on the leader of the Separatists. Some of them looked at their general for orders, but Anakin only glared at the count, not saying a word.

“Hey, uh… Dooku?” Ahsoka asked, awkwardly, gaining his attention. “You’re alright. You’re safe… relatively.”

“The… Chancellor?” was the first thing he asked, albeit dazedly. The drugs from the syringe were pumping through him repellently. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Dead,” said Ahsoka.

“Why are we on Coruscant?” he asked. _This wasn’t supposed to happen,_ he thought panickily and she could read the words. _This wasn’t part of the plan._

“The ship crashed… _Dooku_ ,” said Ahsoka, pointedly.

The gunship touched down at the crash-site of _The War God_.

[][][]

To say that Obi-Wan had woken up unpleasantly would have been an understatement. Not only did he have a pounding headache, have no idea what happened or where his lightsabre was, but he found himself in a ship’s cockpit with Count Dooku’s corpse.

He remembered fighting the bastard and being shot with a red flash. His limbs were still sore from that unpleasant shock. Had Anakin killed the count? If so, why had they both been thrown out in this ship? Obi-Wan looked around for a clue to his myriad of questions. Aside from him and the corpse, there were also two droids, R2 and CL-Y. R2 was piloting their ship and CL-Y looked like she had been trying to wake him up. As if she had read his confusion, CL-Y produced a blue hologram out of her projector and Obi-Wan immediately recognised the Chancellor and Pallas.

 _“… It seems you’ve broken character, Lord Sidious,”_ CL-Y sped up the recording. “ _How do you know of such things!?_ … _Your agents are crawling all over the Senate … Every part of this conversation, every word we have both just said has been live broadcasted… Then, execute Order 66!”_

Obi-Wan stared at the hologram with horror. Palpatine? Palpatine had been Sidious all along? The more Obi-Wan thought about it, the more the puzzle pieces fit together. Everything the council discussed, all the clues that had trickled into their intelligence were there intentionally. Obi-Wan thought of the Chancellor’s spheres of influences in the Senate and beyond it, even in the Jedi Order. With horror, Obi-Wan thought of the Chancellor’s influence over Anakin. His own padawan had been groomed right under his nose.

The Jedi Master looked at the corpse of Dooku. It hadn’t been the man he’d been fighting a few hours ago. _Red lightning_ , he thought with realization. How could he have been so stupid? Obi-Wan of all people knew about the surgery available to alter one’s appearance, but that begged the question: why would Ares disguise himself as his father?

“R2, we need to land,” said Obi-Wan. “What happened to the warship?” The astromech beeped his answer _: it crashed_. “Of course, it did. Take us to the Jedi Temple, R2.” He tried standing up and groaned. CL-Y passed the Jedi a tablet out of her metal body. “Thank you, CL-Y,” he said, accepting the medicine and swallowing it. “I need… I need to talk to Ares.”

He looked at Count Dooku again. When he had been in the guise of a bounty hunter, ironically to protect the Chancellor, they had gone to laborious lengths to make sure that no one would stumble over the real Rako Hardeen. It seemed that Ares had gone to similar measures with his father. “Is there a hidden compartment somewhere, CL-Y?” There was only a closet. It would have to do. Obi-Wan shoved the old man inside and made a mental note to lock the ship when they landed. Dooku couldn’t be found before his time.

[][][]

The wreckage of _The War God_ was incredible. Amidst the ash and smoke, demolished computers sparked and destroyed droids crackled. Glass was shattered everywhere. The beams that supported the command bridge were bent and broken.

When Pallas regained consciousness, she felt an immense weight pushing down on her. She didn’t even register any of her pain. She blinked the dust out of her eyes and realised that Pompeii had jumped on top of her to shield her from the crash and the falling debris.

“Pompeii wake up. Get up,” she said with a croaking voice, gently hitting the sides of his furry, horned face. “Come on, the Republic troops will be coming soon,” she said, but he didn’t move. His massive weight pressed down on her and she felt around clumsily for a pulse, unable to find it. _It’s all this fur,_ she thought. She shimmied and struggled out from under his bulk, stretched out and observed her friend.

A small gush of Zygerrian blood was leaking from the side of his head. He was dead. He had sacrificed his life to save her from the crash and the shards of debris. He had died like a good soldier protecting his general.

“I hope that yours is the last life that is taken by my family’s stupid war, my friend,” she said, sadly, before pressing her lips to her friend’s forehead. She wanted to cry, but everything was so dry and desolate that she couldn’t force it. _The tears will come later_ , she thought.

With her heart-clenched and her head pounding, she stood up and made her way out of the command bridge. The walls had melted during the crash and she was pretty sure half the ship had broken off during the fall. She continued moving slowly through the rubble, until she reached what used to be the main hanger. It was an unrecognisable mess.

She kneeled at the scorched corpse of an old man. _Palpatine_ , she recognised from the senatorial garbs. The crash landing had burnt his body, but the pool of blood around him and the clean cut of his neck suggested that he was killed before the crash. She reached out and touched what would have been his head, now a black skull.

Something gold caught her eye amidst the ruins. She reached out and found the golden hilt of a lightsabre amongst the ashes. She ignited it and watched a red blade spring up, mesmerizingly bright. Another glint, this time white, drew her attention to what she recognised to be Ahsoka’s blades, now sliced in half.

She looked around in dread, fearful of find any other bodies. “They must have abandoned ship before impact,” she said to herself, seeing none. She didn’t want to think what she would have done if she found Ares here in the ash.

Then, she heard running footsteps and saw figures rushing in. No soldier wanted to greet their enemies on their knees. Pallas threw the golden hilt back into the ashes and pushed herself back onto her feet.

“Freeze!” a Jedi yelled out before he reached them. She recognised the Jedi immediately: Mace Windu. Though the Jedi Master boasted of a great legacy, she knew him primarily as her first defeated foe from the Invasion of Ryloth, at the start of her career. _Just my luck_ , she thought.

“General Windu,” she said, addressing him with courtesy and amicable manner, despite everything hurting too much. She didn’t even know what region hurt anymore. Maybe she was still in shock. “Good day to you.”

The Jedi Master ignited his purple lightsabre and pointed it at her. Clones surrounded her in a circle with their rifles pointing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one inspect the remains of their Chancellor and picked up the golden hilt. Another Jedi Knight ran up to them – Seesee Tiin. He took his place by Windu’s side with his green blade at the ready.

“General Pallas, you are to be placed under house arrest until the Senate can decide your fate,” said Windu. Though Jedi were forbidden to act out of feelings, Pallas could see the Jedi Master’s anger.

“You have no Senate,” she said. “Your Senate has just collapsed.”

“Not yet,” said Windu.

“If the wheels of bureaucracy must grind with their incredible sluggishness, then so be it,” said Pallas, despondent. “Where will this… house arrest take place exactly?”

“In one of the cells of the Jedi Temple,” answered Tiin.

“Just great,” she said. She had not meant it mockingly. She was so exhausted and dead inside that she was incapable of feeling anything anymore. All she could picture was Pompeii’s dead face and the question ‘why didn’t the crash take her too?’

Just then, another set of footsteps came running into the hanger. Over Windu’s shoulder, she saw Skywalker. He looked horrible, ashen and burnt. “Wait!” he shouted out. “Master Windu! The Chancellor! The Chancellor is the Sith Lord!”

Windu fixed an unimpressed look upon Skywalker that made him stop in his tracks and walk the remaining distance. “Thank you, Skywalker. Every owner of a holotransmitter in the Core Worlds knows that much,” said Windu.

“What?” Skywalker asked, confused.

“Skywalker missed the broadcast. He was busy fighting the said Dark Lord,” supplied Pallas. Windu drew his sabre to her throat to force her silence. She seemed about as unphased by the purple lightsabre as if it was a wooden play sword.

“We are aware of the Chancellor’s true identity now. General Pallas has just wreaked havoc across the galaxy,” said Windu. “There is chaos in the Senate. Masters Yoda, Fisto and Koth are currently trying to re-establish order. They’ll take control of The Senate if they must. We have reports all over the galaxy of unexpected mutiny. Clones have turned on their Jedi generals. Dozens of Jedi are dead. The galaxy is being torn apart and until we can find out what has happened here, Pallas of Serenno is going to serve house arrest. We’ll decide on a war crime trial once we have everything under control.”

“One of Palpatine’s puppets must have set off Order 66 as a desperate attempt to end the Jedi,” said Pallas. It had been the risk of a live broadcast, but they had to expose the Chancellor. Otherwise, he would have slipped away like the serpent that he was. “Look, General Windu, the war is still going on out there. I can’t order my forces to cease firing from a house arrest. Let me go and reinstate order in my Parliament, whilst you do the same with yours.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Windu hissed at her.

“You’ll forgive me for the inconvenience caused once you realise what disastrous fate you have been saved from,” said Pallas. It only enraged Windu more.

“Today, you dealt the Republic a blow more devastating than any battle,” said Windu.

Unexpectedly, Pallas started to laugh. “So much for a ‘thank you for saving our lives’,” she said, laughing and not caring about her surroundings. The situation was inexplicably funny to her. Her brain was just releasing dopamine to deal with the shock and agony of everything. “You make a very bad damsel in distress, General Windu!”

“Get her out of my sight!” Windu snarled.

“No one likes saving an ungracious princess!” shouted Pallas as two troops grabbed her shoulders and led her out to the gunship.

[][][]

Skywalker pushed Pallas into the Republic gunship, where she found Ahsoka and Dooku sitting on the floor of it, applying bacta-spray to their burnt wounds. They both looked up at her. Dooku stood up, unsteadily, and she had to remind herself that it wasn’t her actual father. The sound of the rifles being tensed clicked inside the gunship.

“Easy,” Anakin said softly to his men.

“You’re alright,” said the baritone voice of the count. His brown eyes searched her in that caring way that only her brother could.

“Pompeii is dead,” Pallas said, swallowing bitterly the lump in her throat. “And I think I just… made Windu very, very angry.”

“Windu can go kriff himself,” said the count. “And I’m so sorry… about Pompeii, about everything.”

Forgetting the rifles trained on them, Pallas took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, the tears finally spilling. She buried her face in her father’s brown cloak, shattered and broken.

“It’s done. It’s over. It’s all over,” she whispered. He nodded against her and pulled her closer, tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts, feelings, conclusions? I’d like to read them all if you don’t mind. In fact, if EVERY ONE of YOU wrote a review, I’d be almost as happy as Pallas was laughing at Windu. So, PLEASE REVIEW!
> 
> Next is the finale!


	19. A Long Journey to Peace

#  **Chapter 19 – A Long Journey to Peace**

The broadcast flocked every senator into the Senate Hall to debate.

The Chancellor’s treason and the sudden absence of both Vice Chair Mas Amedda and Chief of Staff Sly Moore brought unprecedented pandemonium. Padme had never seen such a political nightmare in the Republic Senate before and she doubted she would again. The noise of the giant Senate Hall was ear-splitting from the shouts of bickering politicians. People were screaming at on one another all sorts of heinous accusations and obscenities that had little to no bearing with the situation at hand. _It was chaos_ , she thought, _true chaos_.

For her own part, Padme chose to remain in the stands and watch. She could feel Captain Typho’s concerned glare at the back of her skull. She rested her hands on her pregnant belly, mindful of the stress she was placing her baby in, but this was important. This was the fate of the war and the whole galaxy. The heated room would calm soon, she hoped, and give her an opportunity to speak with clear reason and voice. Palpatine’s treachery had stunned and betrayed her personally.

He had been her senator when she was Queen. Since he had been Chancellor, he had been a mentor to both herself and her husband. It had been his whisperings that had prompted her to issue a Vote of No Confidence 13 years ago that had led to his ascension. The Trade Federation blockade that had terrorised her home now seemed very likely to be constructed by him to gain power. She had been such a fool!

The words had tumbled out of Sheev’s own mouth. No one would be able to say or do or deny anything. The truth was on the table for the whole galaxy to see. As one angry senator reasoned that this was all a Separatist trick and was immediately pushed aside by his peers, Padme couldn’t help thinking how Pallas of Serenno had played her cards masterfully.

“Padme,” the voice of her friend, Bail Organa, broke her out of her thoughts. She looked at the senator of Alderaan, who appeared as a hologram in front of her. “How are you feeling?” her old friend asked, compassionately. He knew the Chancellor’s treachery would hit her hardest. The pregnancy hormones couldn’t have been helping.

“Like a fool, Bail,” said Padme. “I feel like a fool. I should have seen the signs. He was my friend, my mentor. I should have known.”

“Don’t feel guilty, Padme. Palpatine was influential in the Senate before you were even born.

I’ve just received word that the Jedi have detained General Pallas and Count Dooku. They are to be held under house arrest,” said Bail.

That broke Padme out of her thoughts. “But… then who is in command of the Separatist Parliament?” she asked. As usual, Padme’s thoughts were on how to end this war faster. With the divisive force now ousted from power, chances for peace were suddenly very hopeful.

“Unclear,” said Bail.

“This,” she gestured vaguely to the chaos, “must also be happening in the Separatist Parliament. The entire galaxy was in chaos.”

Bail nodded in agreement. “We need a leader right now to reign in the madness.”

“Bail…” Padme almost whispered, so that her neighbouring senators wouldn’t hear her. “…You have to do it.” The suggestion made him blink. “You know you have to do it. You’re someone who has the trust and admiration of many. You were no closer to Palpatine than anyone else and you’re a member of the peace party. You could end this war—”

But just as she said this, the rowdy Senate hall grew uncharacteristically quiet. Padme put a hand on her swollen, pregnant belly and looked up.

She saw Masters Yoda, Fisto and Koth appear on the Chancellor’s podium. All members of the Jedi Council, she noted. They were here to disperse the Senate. Looking at all her colleagues, she really couldn’t blame them.

“Members of the Senate,” said Fisto, the Jedi with the strongest voice of the three. “Due to recent developments, we are obligated to dismiss this session until the allegations with regard to Chancellor Palpatine and his cabinet have been fully understood. We must kindly ask every member to come quietly and remain in their office until we have more information in this matter. For now, the Intergalactic Republic is in emergency state.”

 _Jedi were poor politicians_ , Padme concluded and not for the first time. She hoped Anakin was alright.

[][][]

As Pallas and Ares soon discovered, house arrest meant one of the finer cells of the Jedi Temple. There were fine furnishings that tried to distract their prisoners from their predicament and a window that looked out onto the courtyard, taunting of its freedom. Food was brought in by a Sentry, though neither twins were particularly hungry.

“Come here,” Pallas said to her brother as she stared out the window.

“Yes?” He came up to her side, massaging the sore stump on his arm. The prosthetic was gone – he wasn’t sure where it went. The effects of the drugs had worn off during their flight here.

“I’ve never been to Coruscant before. Quite the entrance, I’ve made,” she said.

“Yes,” said Ares, thinking of the wreckage of the _War God_. He tried to imagine what the pedestrians of Coruscant saw when they saw the flaming war machine fall from the skies. Did they think of doom and extinction? A fitting symbol when their Supreme Chancellor had been exposed as a master of evil. “Much more dramatic than my first arrival,” he said.

“Is that the Senate Office?” she asked curiously and pointed to the oval shaped building. He was surprised that they could see it from their cell.

“Yes,” said Ares. “You’re quite the avid tourist, aren’t you?”

“So, that must be the Senate building?” she asked, pointing to a different structure.

“Yeah,” said Ares. “I wonder what’s going on in there, right now.”

“Chaos,” Pallas stated, factually. “Father always promised that we’d parade our army down the Avenue of Core Founders on the day we win the war,” said Pallas. “But I never thought I’d spend the first day of the end of the war in a cell.”

Ares smirked. “The day has only just begun, sister,” he said, his cold, regal voice sounding odd with the words. “Do you think he knew? That his army would never march down that Avenue?”

“If he did, then he was a bigger fool than we imagined,” said Pallas. “If he didn’t, then he was very gullible.”

Ares sighed. “There’s just no pleasing you, is there?”

Pallas laughed and looked at him with a bitter expression. “I am my father’s daughter,” she said. “Ironically.”

Ares’ right hand found her shoulder. “I used to think that being your father’s offspring meant that you had to continue him – his genes, his vision, his teachings. Then, I thought it was about paying off his debts and correcting his wrongs. Now, I think it’s a little bit of both.” He paused for Pallas’ scoff and eye roll. Ares was uncomfortably aware that he was still wearing their father’s face and clothes as he said that. “It’s time to let him go. I’m tired of being someone’s son. I am more than a son, just like you are more than a daughter. I am my own man and, more to the point, I’m all out of kriffs to give. Accept the gifts, the good and the bad, and bury him. It’s time to grow up and pave your own way.”

She chuckled. “When did you become so wise?”

He shrugged. “I hung around enough crackpots. Occasionally, they’ll say something wise.”

Her eyes looked down at his missing hand with guilt. “Is it sore?” she asked. It was her fault her brother was dependent on rusty metal instead of real flesh.

“No,” he said, warmly. “Just strange not to have a prosthetic.”

“We’ll fix you one up when we get to Raxus,” she promised and looked away.

“You should rest,” said Ares. “We both should. Save our strengths for what’s to come next.”

“We need a plan first,” said Pallas.

“Relax,” said Ares. He took a seat on one of the couches, smiling broadly. “I’m already on it. Our plan for escape is already in motion,” he yawned and stretched. “We just need to be patient. I have everything under control.”

It was hard to take him seriously or believe that he had anything under control when he was dozing off. “Care to share this plan of yours?” asked Pallas.

Her brother gave her a shit-eating grin. “Not particularly.”

Pallas gave her brother an annoyed look. “Sometimes, you make it hard to love you,” she said.

“I never took you for someone who chose easy routes,” he said.

[][][]

The cell’s door suddenly opened and in stepped Ahsoka Tano with Obi-Wan Kenobi following her, looking sheepish. Ares smiled immediately at seeing them both, perhaps especially delighted by the prospect of annoying Obi-Wan.

Ares mustered his deepest voice, straightening up to give his best impression of Dooku. “Look who decided to join us. I see my new apprentice has convinced you to join the dark side, Master Kenobi,” said Ares. The grey beard hid his grin.

“Please don’t undo all my hard-work, Ares,” said Ahsoka, sighing exasperatedly. “It took about an hour to explain everything.”

“Ares?” Obi-Wan’s voice broke a little saying the name and looking at the wrong face.

“You like my new haircut, general?” asked Ares, as if they had not battled one another to the death a few hours ago. “Beard too.”

“Not particularly,” said Obi-Wan.

“That beard is not staying,” said Ahsoka, sternly. He winked at her playfully. “And neither is the rest of… that,” she gestured vaguely to his face. _Okay, wifey_ , he thought teasingly.

“Well, to get rid of it, we need to get out of here and end the war,” said Pallas, speaking up for the first time. Both she and Obi-Wan sized one another up, awkwardly. It was Pallas who decided to offer her hand. “Hello there, General Kenobi,” she said. “We meet at last. Thank you for keeping my brother from getting killed all these years.”

Obi-Wan tentatively shook it. “No, General Pallas, thank you for constantly threatening his life and giving me plenty to do all these years.”

“All part of the plan,” said Pallas.

“The Council has decreed that you and… your father should stay here until we can figure it all out,” said Obi-Wan.

“Another twenty years long enough for your colleagues, Master Jedi?” asked Pallas, bitingly.

“Now, now, sister, that’s no way to go around the Jedi Council. You should speak softer and slower. They are simplistic folk,” said Ares, smiling at her remark. Obi-Wan glared at him. “What? I am Count Dooku. I scoff at the folly of the Jedi Council. It’s the whole reason we’ve just had a war.”

“Still going, by the way,” said Pallas, enjoying this exchange. “The longer we are in this cell, the more the Confederacy slips out of our family’s fingers and into the grasp of slime like the Corporate Alliance, war profiteers or maybe even a gangster like Maul. Options for usurpers are limitless.”

“Alright, I get it,” said Kenobi, annoyed. “The council isn’t always right.” He looked pointedly at Ahsoka, who looked at him with forgiving blue eyes. “That was a lesson my old master, Qui-Gon Jinn, had tried to teach me when I was his padawan. He had an instinct for knowing what the right thing was. I, unfortunately, did not learn that lesson.”

“Better late than never, general,” said Ares, looking at Ahsoka who winked at him and walked into the cell towards the wall.

“Indeed,” said Obi-Wan. “Which is why Anakin is currently finding a speeder to smuggle you both out of this cell and we’re cutting your way out of here.” Out of the depths of his brown Jedi robes, Obi-Wan produced to Ares his father’s lightsabre. The sound of ignition drew Ares attention to Ahsoka who had a golden-hilted red blade in hand and was cutting open a circle in the wall.

“Whose lightsabre is that?” asked Ares.

“Palpatine owes me,” Ahsoka said, simply.

The count turned back to Obi-Wan. “Look at you, general, committing treason and helping out Separatists,” said Ares, smirking. His hand clutched around the cold hilt.

“Don’t jinx it,” said Obi-Wan. “Please… please tell me it’s not treason. Please tell me I’m not making a terrible mistake, Ares.”

“You’re not,” said Ares, earnestly. “You’re ending the war, Obi-Wan. More so than any battle you’ve ever fought.”

“That’s a terrible thought,” said Obi-Wan.

A gust of cold, evening breeze hit their sides. Ahsoka had cut open their exit and outside, true to word, was a speeder, piloted by Anakin Skywalker.

“Won’t you come with us?” Ares asked his general.

“I can’t,” said Obi-Wan. “The Republic is in chaos. The Jedi need to secure order. I’m needed here more than I’m needed with you. Anakin will go with you. I trust you, my friend, but you must understand that I can’t let your sister walk out of a prison without assurance.”

“That’s fair,” said Ares. “Thank you, Obi-Wan. For everything.”

Meanwhile, Pallas was having the pleasure of greeting Anakin Skywalker, who, despite being debriefed by Ahsoka about everything, was still fresh with memories of violent battles waged by this very girl.

“General Pallas,” he said from the pilot’s seat. “I was expecting someone of your reputation to be a little older.”

Pallas fixed him with a deadpan look from the backseat. “Then you clearly don’t understand the concept of twins, do you, General Skywalker?”

Ahsoka, who had seated herself in shotgun, next to her master, snickered. This promised to be a fun trip. Ares jumped into their speeder in the other backseat, next to his sister.

“This was your great escape plan? Have your friends bail us out?” asked Pallas.

The face of Count Dooku grinned, uncharacteristically. “Unlike you, I spent wartime making allies,” said Ares.

“In my defence it’s difficult to make friends with Siths and monsters,” said Pallas.

They flew above the courtyard where a gathering of younglings were training basic lightsabre forms with varying levels of success. Ahsoka looked over the edge of the speeder and recognised some of those children. Not long ago, she had accompanied some of them to get their lightsabre crystals. An adventure that included General Grievous, pirates and circus attractions.

"Those kids... would they have been killed by the clones?" she asked.

Pallas turned to where Ahsoka was looking. "Most likely," she said. "They're the heirs of the Jedi Order. They'd have been a threat to the Dark Lord." She paused. "I'm guilty of a lot of things, but I can have one comfort: I prevented the slaughter of children. Even if they'll never know it and may be raised to resent me." There was a haunted look in Pallas' face. The ghosts of all those who she sentenced to die followed her everywhere she went like a horrid stench or an unbreakable curse.

Ahsoka watched that look for a moment. No doubt there were things that the twins didn't tell her about Palpatine's plan. Ahsoka wasn't sure that she even wanted to hear them. The mere thought of Order 66 being carried out successfully gave her shivers. The full knowledge of the plan must have been an incredible burden to bear.

"That shouldn't be a small comfort," said Ahsoka. "... Thank you."

"How are you planning on getting off this planet?" asked Ares.

“I have a Republic shuttle waiting for us on a military bay,” said Skywalker. “If we break past the planetary lockdown, we’ll be able to get out.”

“No,” Pallas stated.

“No?” Skywalker asked, already angry.

“No,” Pallas repeated. “I have no idea what to expect on Raxus. We need to rendezvous with my fleet, which my commander evacuated before the crash. My droids are not emotional beings. They are not swayed by the treacheries of Chancellors. If we arrive with a Republic shuttle, they’ll open fire before I can give them my security codes. We need a neutral ship.”

“Then, I have an idea,” said Ahsoka. “Master, take us to level 1313. Pallas and I have some mutual friends there that own a neutral ship.”

[][][]

They descended into Coruscant’s famed criminal underworld and found the repair shop that the Martez sisters owned. Ahsoka jumped out of the speeder and looked around. “Raffa? Trace? Anybody home?” she shouted out. _The Silver Angel_ was there and, Ahsoka quickly noticed, its pilot was on the roof with a blowtorch. “Trace!” she yelled out.

Trace stopped and lifted her visor to look at the Togruta. “Ahsoka! Raffa, it’s Ahsoka!” she exclaimed and jumped off her ship. She ran at the girl and embraced her friend tightly. “You’re safe! What are you doing here?” Trace asked. The last time they saw one another was still in the Pyke prison. She and her sister then had to go and deliver a message to the Jedi. That seemed so long ago now, but it had only been a fortnight.

Raffa stepped out of the shadows and observed. “I see the Jedi rescued you,” she said, looking distrustfully at the three cloaked strangers.

“Yes, I’m okay. I have a job for you two,” said Ahsoka.

Trace looked behind Ahsoka to the three strangers speaking discreetly to one another on her platform. One of them was the Separatist general who had bought them from the Pykes. “Not this psycho again,” Trace muttered, looking at Pallas. “Did she hurt you after we left?”

“It’s okay, Trace. No, she didn’t hurt me. She’s one of the good guys,” said Ahsoka, calming her friend.

“Does that insult you, general?” Anakin said to the young woman, who gave him a humourless smile.

“Not in the slightest. I’ve always known I was the good guy,” she replied.

“What if I told you that you were the bad guy all along, Skywalker?” challenged Ares. Anakin glared savagely at Count Dooku’s form and remained silent.

“What’s the job?” Raffa asked Ahsoka.

The young general stepped forward. “Transfer four persons out of Coruscant to my fleet and I’ll pay you ten thousand credits.”

“That’s it? We’re just the delivery girls?” asked Raffa.

“Are we committing treason?” asked Trace, eyeing the Separatist distrustfully. “Didn’t you kidnap the Chancellor or something? Rumours have reached even down here.”

“You two were willing to sell spice to Pykes. Don’t think too hard about treason,” said Ahsoka. “Is it a deal?” she outstretched a hand to Raffa.

“If the moral high ground is bringing us a job then it must be legit,” said Raffa, as she shook Ahsoka’s hand.

“Great. Let’s go. I would prefer to leave immediately,” said Pallas. “Every moment is precious.”

[][][]

The four of them gathered in the main hull of _The Silver Angel_ to discuss their next move.

“I can feel your fear,” said Ares to his sister, “calm down. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that! You can’t make such a promise!” Pallas snapped at him. She sighed deeply and one of her hands fiddled with the gold chain around her neck. _I wish Wodin was alive,_ she thought bitterly, _I have so many questions._ “I played politics once and I paid a horrible price.” She tried to block out the thoughts of Mina Bonterri that plagued her everywhere, everyday. “I know this might sound strange, but I don’t know how to be a dictator. Not a political one anyway.”

“Sure you know,” said Anakin. “We’ve all seen it. Don’t they teach you that in your posh Separatist Academies?”

“Our dictators learnt from yours, Republicans,” said Pallas, glaring at Skywalker.

Ahsoka pushed between them. “Alright, that’s enough,” she said. “The plan? Is there a plan?”

“A very vague one,” said Ares. “I go in with my wrinkly unsexy face, transfer my privileges onto my… heroic daughter, Force-that’s-weird-to-say… and strangle anyone who opposes it.”

“You’ll have many throats then,” said Pallas.

“No one said peace would be bloodless,” said Ares.

Pallas glared at him. “You’re getting a little too into character, _dad_.”

“Good, that’s the point,” said Ares. Then he softened. “If you’re worried about what happened to Mina—"

“Don’t—” Pallas snapped, a sudden hatred and anger flaring in her. Her fingers curled into a fist and there was a pained twinge in her jaw. “Don’t talk to me about her when you look… like _him_.”

Ares was getting tired of this face.

[][][]

They were hurtling through hyperspace now. Pallas and Ares were writing up their speeches for the Parliament. These weren’t matters that Ahsoka could help much with, so she walked into the pilot’s cockpit where Trace was in the pilot’s seat, staring at the colourful rays of hyperspace.

“Hey,” Ahsoka said, gently. “Company?”

“Sure,” said Trace, shrugging. Ahsoka took a seat in the co-pilot’s place. “So… you’re a Jedi, aren’t you? Raffa and I figured as much by how they cared about your getting captured. And… your friend, the tall gloomy one with the scar on his eye, showed me a few impressive piloting tricks on our way out of Coruscant.”

“I _was_ a Jedi,” said Ahsoka, “but I left.”

Trace looked at her and her eyes fell on the golden lightsabre on Ahsoka’s belt that had, until recently, belonged to Palpatine. “Doesn’t look like it to me,” she said. “You should have told me.”

“How could I? After what you told me about your parents,” said Ahsoka. “…Luminara Unduli. That’s the name of the Jedi that… you know. She’s not really known for her compassion.” Ahsoka thought about Barriss for the first time in a long time. She was surprised by the sympathy she now felt for her betrayer. They had both become disillusioned by the Order. The difference between them was that Ahsoka was surrounded and nurtured by love and Barriss had been raised in Luminara’s cold, unfeeling, unattached tradition. Had their upbringing been reversed, she wondered if she would have acted any differently to Barriss. She wanted to think herself above acts of terrorism and framing her friends for them, but still… what if things had been different for her. “I’m sorry about the Jedi Order. War makes monsters of us all.”

Trace looked at her sympathetically. “Aren’t you going to show me how that thing works?” she asked, looking at the lightsabre, trying to lighten the mood.

 _A good question,_ thought Ahsoka. She took the hilt in her hand. She still hated its red glare. Red crystals were harsher than natural ones, but this was heavier than any lightsabre she had ever held, even more so than Ares’. A red blade sprung out, glaring menacingly. “It’s not mine. I’m just… borrowing it, I guess.” Except she wasn’t. The Sith Lord the sword belonged to was dead and never coming back for it.

“Pretty cool,” Trace said, staring at the hypnotic light.

“Yeah,” she whispered, annoyed by the angry glare, and switched it off. “Not really my colour though.” She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and allowed the Force to flow through her. The hilt started to levitate in front of her and disassemble. The crystal fell into her palm and she felt it’s raw power rush through her. She resisted its lure and pushed her own strength through it, overpowering it. Without its true master, its venom was weak. When she opened her eyes, in her palm rested a pure white crystal. She fixed it back into the hilt and ignited the weapon again. A beaming, warm white light ejected from the hilt.

“Wow,” Trace said, watching beside her.

“Indeed,” she said and smiled. “It feels really good to take something from the Dark Lord and make it good.”

[][][]

They arrived at the rendezvous point. _The Silver Angel_ sailed smoothly through to the command frigate after Pallas passed the security codes. Once aboard, Pallas paid the sisters and sent them on their way.

“You alright, General Skywalker?” asked Pallas smirkingly, seeing the itch in the Jedi Master to cut down her mechanical troops.

“I’m not exactly in my comfort zone right now,” said Skywalker with gritted teeth.

The fleet jumped to hyperspace and came up on Raxus. “Set up a defensive perimeter. Position Delta-7. I want the capital protected,” Pallas ordered her tactical droid.

“Roger, roger.”

Pallas looked at her brother, whose expression was unreadable under the false face. “Welcome back home, brother.”

“Home,” said Ares, tasting the strange word. “It’s been so long.”

[][][]

After a whole day of chaotic debates, squabbling, threats and games, Nute Gunray was pleased to find himself in the Speaker of the Assembly’s seat. He had pulled strings and tugged purses to secure this seat for himself amidst his colleagues. Now, they just needed to decide upon a Commander-in-Chief for their army and a Head of State, which were much more difficult tasks.

“We don’t even know that Count Dooku or General Grievous are dead!” one of the senators yelled.

“We don’t know much, Senator! But we need leadership now!”

“The hierarchy is clear!”

“The entire hierarchy is in Republic hands!”

“We should decide on a Commander-in-Chief now and strike the Republic whilst we have the chance! They’re vulnerable now!”

“We should pursue peace!”

“No! More war! We have the advantage now!”

The viceroy listened to all these myriads of voices, hoping on exhausting them before he could organise them. He made mental notes of the voices that wanted anything but war. Those would be called to the floor last if they even had time to get to them.

Suddenly, the main doors blew open and all eyes fell on Count Dooku. Silence filled the hall. An unsure air hung around all the politicians. The last 24 hours of debating had been for nought if Count Dooku was here. Neither the Viceroy or any other politician noticed two cloaked Jedi slip into the Parliament and take a seat in the spectating wings.

The count took his slow steps. He was wearing his brown cloak and his arm was in a sling. There was a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Viceroy,” said the cold voice. Nute Gunray felt his throat dry and couldn’t move any more from the seat. _Dooku’s seat._ “Thank you for keeping my seat warm for me. Now kindly find yours.”

The terrified Viceroy didn’t need to be told twice. He scurried back to his place without protest, embarrassed and shocked.

“My fellow servants of the Confederacy,” he began. “I’ve just returned from a bloody battle, which my noble daughter has won. One battle of many that has been waged to satiate Palpatine’s bloodlust, but I am pleased to confirm that the Dark Lord of the Sith is dead. He will have no more dealings in our affairs.” A round of applause clapped around the hall. “Yes, we are free to true liberty now, but I am an old man, too weak to carry this great Alliance to glory. We are entering uncertain times and I believe that leadership must be made swiftly. I love our state too much to let it fall into the cesspit that Palpatine has left in his wake. Whilst I may still lay claim to being its founder, I believe the Confederacy of Independent Systems needs a new Head of State, Commander-in-Chief and Speaker of the Assembly. There is no one who is more opposed to the Dark Lord than his vanquisher, General Pallas of Serenno.”

The doors of the Parliament opened, and Pallas walked in with a squadron of droids on her heels. Cheering boomed around the halls. The entire Parliament gave a standing ovation for their war hero. The noise was louder than the bickering of the senators at the peak of their disagreements. Gunray noticed the surprised look upon the young woman’s face amidst the support.

“I propose an emergency bill to transfer all my powers, privileges, titles and responsibilities to my one true heir, my daughter! All those in agreement say ‘ay’!” Count Dooku’s voice thundered over the cheers. It was a resounding majority. “All those against, say ‘nay’!” A few confused voices sounded in the crowd.

Count Dooku stepped down from the Speaker of the Assembly’s podium. He unclasped the brown cloak with the signet of the count of Serenno on it and fastened it around his daughter’s shoulders. “Congratulations, general,” he said warmly. There was an uncharacteristic pride in the count’s eyes.

Nute Gunray had never seen a more elegant transition of power and he scowled in his seat. He had spent too many credits for the position of the Speaker of the Assembly and all for nought.

Riding the momentum of a new ascension, Pallas stepped onto her father’s podium. “Thank you for this honour, my friends. It had been Palpatine’s desires to continue the war to subjugate us all. We have all fought too hard to fall into the trap of the greedy tyrant. However, terrifying a galaxy in chaos is, I can assure you all that it is much more preferable to an empire ruled by an emperor! Therefore, I propose an immediate bill to open negotiations for peace!”

It was hard to deny a heroic leader anything after having been proclaimed a Supreme Leader from such loud cheering. 

[][][]

“I can’t believe I’m back here,” Ares murmured as the giant doors of his childhood home creaked open. Beside him was Ahsoka. Pallas had matters to attend to at the Parliament and they had left Skywalker as her bodyguard. _An amusing notion,_ thought Ares, but he was impatient to have his face back. No matter how much it entertained him to pose as his father, he was getting tired of Ahsoka’s shudders of discomfort or Pallas’ suppressed scowls.

“I remember once looking at this monstrosity and thinking: wow, no wonder he ran away,” said Ahsoka.

“Ready to meet my mother and see the root of all mine and my sister’s issues?” asked Ares.

Ahsoka looked at him strangely. “Your mother is alive?” she asked. He’d never spoken about her. Ahsoka just assumed that she was dead. They never spoke about their parents unless it was to bemoan Dooku’s villainy, but surely he’d have mentioned his mother if she was still alive.

“’Alive’ is an interesting word to use. Yes and no,” said Ares. He looked up at the ceiling. “Mother! Switch on!” he shouted.

Suddenly, the room buzzed to light as if the power was back on, a chime echoed around the walls and a disembodied voice spoke. Chime. “Welcome back, son. How fares the war?”

“There, that’s the emotional reunion I was hoping for, mom,” said Ares. “Activate the med droids – I want a face transplant.” He said that as if it was a completely normal request to one’s mother.

Chime. “Of course, darling,” she said.

Ares looked at Ahsoka who had a crooked white brow. “You’re lucky I already love you because this is really creepy,” she said.

“You are not the first person to say that,” said Ares.

“How does she know it’s you and not…” Ahsoka gestured to his bearded grey face.

“A mother always knows,” he said and smiled as if it was a private joke. “No, in seriousness, she does a scan of every life form that enters the building. It’s the best security system in the galaxy. Nothing happens in my mother’s house without her knowing.”

The operation would take about half an hour and the med-droid was insistent that there would be no one else in the operating room. So, Ahsoka took the opportunity to explore the fortress. She noted that it had the décor and architecture conspicuously similar to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Was it a twisted joke of Count Dooku or a sad reconstructed memorabilia of the past?

It was empty and spacious; too spacious and empty for the uses of two kids. The term ‘spoilt brats’ came to mind. _Spoilt brats that just saved the galaxy_. She imagined it was easy to grow up with a sense of autonomy when there were only droids and… disembodied, emotionless mothers for caretakers. She vaguely remembered Mina Bonterri mentioning how the twins often trespassed on her hospitality and, now looking inside the stronghold, Ahsoka couldn’t say she blamed them.

She found Ares’ room. Speeder and droid parts were scattered around, miniature models of ships hung from the ceiling, and posters of pod-racing champions were stuck to the walls. A finished chess game was on his desk, gathering dust. The four-poster bed was made up neatly.

“I thought I’d find you here,” his voice made her jolt, as if she’d been caught red-handed. She looked to find the young man leaning on his doorway, smiling at her with his normal face. _Had it already been half an hour?_ She thought to herself briefly before she pounced on him, arms wrapped around his neck and kissed him as if she hadn’t seen him in decades. His arms curled around her back, pulling her closer.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

“So, you’re not into role-play then?” asked Ares, smirking.

“Not as your father, no. Old men that endanger the universe aren’t really my thing,” said Ahsoka. “I’m quite happy with you for now.”

“’For now’?” he exclaimed playfully. “Then I better make use of that time, don’t I?” She laughed as he carried her to his four-poster.

[][][]

“Yes, I couldn’t agree more, senator…” Pallas said as she escorted the last politician out of her office. Her hand pressed to his back and the other was showing, vaguely, the way out. “We’ll discuss it more in the next session.”

“Good night, Your Excellency,” said the senator, bowing to her and leaving, finally. She closed the door after him and huffed. She slid down the door, sat on the floor and looked at the ceiling.

“I already hate this kriffing job,” she muttered.

A chuckle made her look to the desk, where she saw Skywalker sitting on it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more uncomfortable than you with politicians, general.”

Pallas glared at him. “I’m out of my comfort zone with them,” she said. “I could do with a drink. Would you like one, Master Jedi?”

“From Count Dooku’s personal liquor collection? Don’t mind if I do,” said Skywalker.

“Let’s see what the old man stored here,” said Pallas, opening the crystal cabinet. “Oh, father, what an abysmal whiskey collection this is. Whiskey, gin, brandy and port. Old man drinks. And… ah-ha, I found some champagne.” She passed the bottle to Skywalker to open whilst she fished out two flutes.

“You seem to know your alcohols, general,” said Skywalker as he propped it open.

“Good taste is important,” said Pallas. She watched Skywalker pour it. Pallas propped herself up on the desk beside him and took the flute. “To the end of the war,” she said, lifting the flute.

“To peace,” said Skywalker. They chinked glasses and drank silently. _What a strange situation,_ both thought to themselves. The taste was sweet and bubbly with a hint of cherry. It went straight into Skywalker’s sinuses.

“Jedi training doesn’t include alcohol appreciation?” asked Pallas. She watched his discomfort with quiet pleasure.

“Dulls the senses so it’s ill-advised,” said Skywalker.

“Congratulations, by the way,” said Pallas. “On your wife’s pregnancy.”

The champagne sprayed out from the Jedi like a gunshot. He coughed for a while and the young woman had to beat his back, awkwardly, to get him to recover. His eyes watered a little. “What?”

“Oh… it seems you didn’t know,” said Pallas, uncomfortably.

“How do you know I have a wife?!” Skywalker demanded.

“It’s not terribly difficult to discover with my resources,” said Pallas. Skywalker glared at her harder.

“What do you mean she’s pregnant?” demanded Skywalker.

“You didn’t know? How could you not know? She’s almost full term,” said Pallas, apologetically. “My apologies. I honestly thought you did.”

“I need to go to her,” said Skywalker feverishly.

“Of course,” said Pallas. She threw him some keys from the desk. “Take my ship. Bay 3C.”

“Thanks,” said Skywalker and he ran out.

Pallas sighed. “What a way to find out, Pal,” she said to herself, taking the last sip of her flute.

The weight of the past day, or fortnight or maybe even three years, suddenly made itself known. She yawned and stretched out and located a comfortable sofa. Never one to pass an opportunity for sleep, especially when it visited her so rarely, she lay down on it and used the Admiral cloak as a blanket. She passed off into a dreamless sleep.

What seemed like a few hours later, Pallas’ eyes fluttered open and she groaned waking up. She reached out for the control panel, but the click of a blaster and the cold circle of a barrel pressing against the back of her head stopped her.

“Get up,” said a familiar voice. “On your knees, scum. If you call for help, I’ll shoot.”

She obeyed. He snatched her commlink from her wrist. “How did you get into the building?” she asked.

“I grew up in these halls. I know the number of times the guards patrol the corridors. Your house’s operating system is on so I assumed you weren’t there – you hate the thing you call a mother, after all, that’s why you murdered mine,” said Lux Bonterri.

“Clever. What do you want, Lux?” asked Pallas.

“I’m here to finally avenge my mother’s death on my own terms,” he stated, and the blaster in his hand shook.

“Ironic,” she said. “I was going to do the same thing in these coming weeks.” _Boy, was this a really bad time to die,_ she thought.

“I know you,” he said, venomously. “These will not be peace talks. You have no interest in peace. You don’t know what peace even is! If you did, you wouldn’t have killed my mother for offering it!” Lux barked. She noticed that he kept repeating those words, as if reminding him why he had to do this. “But I am not deceived. I see through your lies and tricks. I will end this with your death.”

Pallas took a deep breath. It was so odd. In this moment of crisis, she was at her calmest. “Can I at least see your face as you do it?” she asked.

“You didn’t give my mother the courtesy of looking at your face when she was murdered,” Lux said.

“Your mother was asleep. She didn’t feel anything. I made sure of it,” said Pallas. “Besides, you’re better than me, aren’t you? You know that killing me is the right thing to do, don’t you? Why should you be afraid to look me in the eye as you execute me?” She was careful to speak in questions, rather than sentences.

“I’m not afraid!” Lux screamed.

“Lux, she’s baiting you,” said a strong, female voice. _The rebel girl from Onderon_ , Pallas recognised, although her name was escaping Pallas’ mind at this moment. “We don’t have much time, Lux. Do it and let’s get out of here.”

“I see you brought friends,” said Pallas. “That’s nice. It’s good to have moral support in such grim dealings.”

But Lux didn’t listen. Pallas could feel his hateful gaze burning into the back of her head. He stepped around and presented his face. _The war has changed him,_ she thought. The innocent boy had been broken and replaced by the soldier. _Funny_ , she thought, _they had all always thought he would make the worst warrior and poorest soldier of their little quartet._ No. He wasn’t a soldier. He was a rebel now. He took initiative, risks, disobeyed orders to do what he thought was right, not what was ordered of him. The distinction was important.

“Why did you do it?” asked Lux, desperately. He was still searching for what was the right thing to do. “Why… why did you do it?”

“You wouldn’t understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. It would seem that I have nothing left to lose,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Your mother had to die because she defied my father’s grand plan for the war. Outspoken bravery has a price, Lux. He ordered me to kill her to set an example for any sympathisers. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret what I had to do.”

Lux’s fist shook. “I know that! How stupid do you think I am!?” he screamed at her. “I’ve spent the last year and a half thinking over and over and over how it could be possible that you could kill her. I know politics! Don’t teach me about the politics! My question is why did you give the order whilst you made love to me!” His rage left no space for embarrassment, even if his present girlfriend was in the room.

“Lux, we don’t have time for this!” the rebel shrieked at him.

“Then, go!” Lux yelled at her, as if this conversation was the most important thing in the world to him. “Steela, go if you want, but I am not leaving without answers. I’ll die for this if I have to!”

Pallas watched his exhaustion. It almost matched her own. He must have dreamed about Mina’s death as often as she did. For both Lux and Pallas, _it_ was an obsession.

Steela saw the look in Lux’s eyes. There was nothing that she could give to him that would tear Lux away from his obsession. There was not enough love in the whole galaxy that would sate the boy’s unquenchable pain. There was nothing that she could possibly provide or promise him that would heal him. Perhaps he hadn’t even realised it himself, but he had used her, as a steppingstone or a temporary band-aid. She looked at the young woman, the heartless monster, kneeling on the floor at gunpoint and knew that Lux Bonterri would willingly sacrifice them all for this conversation and not feel a shred of remorse.

So, she took a step back. Her trusty sniper was clutched in her hand and ran down the corridor to reunite with her brother, Saw, and the others that had come to this suicide mission. Pallas heard the girl leave and felt sorry for her broken heart.

“Answer my question!” Lux demanded, pushing the barrel hard into Pallas’ head, not far from the spot that had killed his mother.

She closed her eyes and truly thought about that night for the first time since it happened. “I couldn’t… I wouldn’t let you be in the room, in that building, when she died. I would rather have you know that I had done it than for you to have heard it or felt it,” said Pallas, sincerely. “I couldn’t risk you waking up in the night and finding… her. Or fighting your way through the droids. I couldn’t risk the droids accidentally firing at you. I was also selfish. I wanted to cling to you, whilst it happened because I knew it was happening and there was nothing worse than knowing. You were so strong and happy and I loved you.”

Lux dropped to his knees in front of her, his hand keeping the blaster upright but now weak. He was so broken and exhausted. “I have to kill you,” he said, looking down. “I have to kill you for my mother,” he repeated. “I owe it to her to kill you.”

“Lux, your mother died for peace. You owe it to her to bring that peace,” said Pallas. She debated with herself if he would feel threatened if she moved the blaster point away from her chest. Instead, she reached out to touch his cheek. “You owe it to your mother to make sure the war ends right. Like you said… I don’t know what peace is. All I’ve ever known is war and violence. Help, Lux. Help me bring peace.”

“I can’t ever trust you again,” he said, dejectedly.

“That’s understandable,” said Pallas. “I’ve done horrible things, but I want to change that. I need a good politician, Lux, like you. You were raised for politics. Both the Separatist and Republic Senates are rife with people who want the war to go on – you know that. Your mother’s vision for peace will die with me. Let’s earnestly bring it to life, together.” She outstretched a palm out to him.

Lux closed his eyes and breathed. Even now, even after everything, he still couldn’t deny her anything. “You are not forgiven,” he said. “You are very far from forgiven.” He lowered his blaster.

“A temporary ceasefire, sure,” she said.

[][][]

The election of a new Chancellor had been swift. Unofficial campaigns had been made amongst the members whilst the Jedi were trying to reign in the crumbling order. There had been many nominees, but it was an unspoken agreement that the new Chancellor had to be a member of the peace party. Padme herself had been far too young, not to mention too close to Palpatine to have a serious run. Bail Organa of Alderaan, however, did. The most respected member of the peace party and, in Padme’s firm opinion, the best possible choice out of the entire Senate. He won the election.

The Senate fell quiet from its usual pre-session chatter and the great orator’s speech began. Millions of eyes across the galaxy looked upon him.

“My fellow servants of the Republic,” Bail said. “Amidst these difficult times, I am pleased to inform you that today this dreadful war can finally be over. Supreme Leader Pallas and I have negotiated a peace treaty between our two states. There are five main clauses. In the first clause, we will recognise the Confederacy of Independent Systems as a valid, independent state with its Supreme Leader and her Parliament as it’s valid, executive Head. In the second clause, the Jedi Order is to be relieved of all its political and military privileges—”

A confused kerfuffle began amongst the members. No voice was louder than the other. The members of the Senate seemed to be evenly split about the Jedi’s presence. Outside the Senate walls, millions of voices cried out in a cheer.

Bail raised his hands to quieten the house and his loud voice echoed across the chamber.

“There will be time for discussion later!” he announced. “As I was saying, members of the Jedi Order shall be honoured for their service to the Republic during this difficult conflict, but it is time that they returned to their original role as peacekeepers, not politicians or war leaders. They will hold no political offices or privileges.”

Padme looked at Anakin sitting beside her. His face was emotionless, but his hand reached out and touched her pregnant belly. _A reminder_ , she thought as she touched her husband’s hand. Anakin’s thoughts were on his family and how he could now, finally, leave the Order. _Other Jedi might not be of that sentiment_ , Padme imagined. 

“In the third clause, the clone army will continue to serve the Republic as the army. Each soldier will undergo a full vaccination of the control chips that influenced their mutinies. Similarly, the Confederacy will keep its droid army as it sees fit. In the fourth clause, the Supreme Chancellor’s seat will surrender the emergency powers accumulated during the course of the war and all banking clans absorbed into it will become neutral once again. In the fifth and final clause, allies of Sheev Palpatine are to be branded as traitors to the Republic and Confederacy. It is my hope that with this settlement we can finally end this meaningless conflict, bury our dead, rebuild our homes and work together to make sure that such a devastating calamity never occurs again. I now open the floor to discussion!”

[][][]

“I still can’t believe the war is over,” said Ahsoka as she flew the ship onto a landing bay outside of the Jedi Temple.

“I know,” said Ares. He thought about the last few days. It still didn’t seem real. Now that both the Chancellor and Separatist Head had the common goal of peace, it was easy to end the war. “It seems only yesterday you were giving me a tour of The Jedi Temple and accusing me of future treasons.”

She looked at her co-pilot with a playful glare. “In my defence, I was right,” she said.

“You should have followed your feelings. I really was the sneaky traitorous bastard that you suspected me to be,” he said with a smirk.

“I’m glad I didn’t,” she said, turning to look away from him and focusing on landing the ship on the prescribed platform.

They both needed to make their peace with the Jedi Order, even if neither of them was part of it anymore. From their cockpit, they could see a gathering of the Jedi Council members waiting for them outside the Temple.

“Oh great. We get a whole procession,” he muttered. “I really, really hate your cult.”

“It’s not my cult anymore,” said Ahsoka.

Ares grinned at her. “… I love you so much,” he said.

“For disowning a cult?” she asked.

“No, for everything,” he clarified.

She landed the ship and pressed the button to open the door. “Come on,” she said.

“I suppose it’s too late to turn back now?” he asked.

Ahsoka gave him a blank look. The past three years briefly flashed before her eyes. “Way, way, too late,” she said.

“I’ll just stay on the ship. You go. They won’t try to kill you… not after their last mistake,” he said, sinking into his seat. “And you have the better story of the two of us. You can tell them I seduced you to the dark side or something.”

“Come on. You’re braver than that,” she said, as she stood up. “And remember, we come with peace.”

“Don’t look at me. I was destined to be a warlord. They’re supposed to be the peacekeepers,” he said, throwing up his hands and following after her. They walked up to the Council side by side.

Kenobi was beaming. Mace Windu looked like he was keeping unbridled violent emotions barely contained. The other members like Plo Koon, Fisto, Luminara, Tiin were neutral. Yoda looked more peaceful than either of them had ever seen him.

“Um, hello there,” said Ares, dreading the awkward silence.

“A debt of gratitude, the Council owes you both,” said Yoda. In the weeks that had transpired, the horrible truth had become abundantly clear to everyone. “And an apology. Saved countless lives you have. On behalf of the Order, thank you.” Though the grandmaster meant his thanks, it felt so empty to Ares. Lives were worth more than words. Some of those lives were standing around them.

“Your sister didn’t travel with you?” asked Plo Koon.

“No. She had some matters to discuss with the Chancellor,” said Ares, politely. “But she sends her regards.”

“Please pass on our gratitude and well wishes to her,” said Luminara. Amongst her fellow Jedi, she was perhaps the only one that had not fought against the teenage general. She was also conscious that her battalion of troops had been vaccinated by the lice and she had been spared a gruesome fate.

“So… what happens with your Order now?” asked Ahsoka. No one missed her not using the possessive ‘our’ or a neutral ‘the’. It felt like an abandonment, even if she hadn’t been part of it for some time now.

“The Chancellor has announced the Jedi Order is to be relieved of its political duties,” said Windu, with spite. That much they all knew. It was one of the terms of the peace treaty that Pallas had personally written in. What surprised everyone was how much support there was amongst the people of the Republic for the Jedi’s dismissal. Embarrassing questions were being asked that the Council couldn’t answer. 

“Better than death,” Ares said simply.

“Yes,” said Windu, glaring. His humiliation was unmatchable. 

“Disband, we will,” said Yoda. “Become out of touch from the Force we have. Return to our roots as peacekeepers we shall.”

“Peace needs as much work as war does,” said Ahsoka.

“Maul is still out there. So are the eternal vices of slavery, corruption, poverty, and pain. The wound of war will need healing,” added Ares.

“Indeed,” said Yoda. “Let the peace finally begin.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD. It’s over! The mission… The nightmares… they’re finally… over.
> 
> Guys, it’s been such a pleasure writing for you all. Those of you who reviewed have been wonderful audiences. It’s been a thrill, but all good things must come to an end.
> 
> PLEASE REVIEW. Share your favourite moments, in this chapter or story. Share your feelings and thoughts! Let’s celebrate the end my friends!


	20. Epilogue

#  **Chapter 20 – Epilogue**

_Two years later…_

The light of Raxus’ three moons shone through the window of the Head of State’s offices and the fireworks crackled in the skies of Raxulon, though Pallas herself hardly looked at either.

She sat with her back to the fireworks, writing a new bill for the next Parliament session. In her hand was one of her father’s old cigars. Pallas was only too happy to deplete his prized, untouchable collection. The Admiral coat that had been her most prized possession was now on a mannequin in a glass case pushed against one of her walls; a reminder to both her guests and herself of a bloodied past. The same sleepless, endless work habits that had characterized the young woman in war had continued into peacetimes too.

“Burning the midnight oil?” the voice made her jolt in surprise. Lux Bonterri stood at the door.

“It’s not midnight,” she said, though she rubbed her eyes, tiredly. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to see where the Supreme Leader escaped to from her own party,” said Lux. He had a drink in his hand.

“I don’t like parties,” she said. “And besides, it’s your party.”

For the past two years, Lux had served as the ambassador of the Confederacy to the Republic. It had been the Supreme Leader’s strategic masterstroke to both give him what he wanted, which was the ability to ensure peace, and send him far, far away. Now, she had recalled him back home and her Parliament had been ordered to rejoice in his return.

He shook his head. “Let’s be fair. They’re only celebrating because you made them.”

It was no secret to anyone that Lux Bonterri was of a complicated character. He had fought against the Separatists on Onderon and delivered his system into the hands of the Republic, though he’d been banished from his homeworld days before being named ambassador. Everyone also remembered his out-spoken, popular mother and the dubious cause of her death. He did not share his mother’s popularity amongst his peers, only the favour of their leader.

“So it would seem that we are both two outsiders of our own party,” he said as he walked around the massive desk to be on one side of it, with her, and leaned against it.

“Is there something you wanted, Lux? I’m quite busy,” she said. Pallas took a puff of her cigar and her eyes skirted to the bill.

“I think we have to have a very important conversation,” he said. He finished the last of his drink and put it down. “Why am I back?”

Pallas instantly tensed. “Are you sure you want to have it now?” she asked, flicking ash into a tray.

“Yes,” he said.

“Alright,” she said and took a deep breath. She pushed away her bill and extinguished the cigar. “We need to discuss the terms of your service. The clone wars are over and the galaxy is at peace. Your mother’s death wish has been achieved. I need to know… what you want now. Where do we stand.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, they worked well together. He was a brilliant politician and negotiator, whilst she was a great leader. He could tell her when she was being too much of a ‘general’ or too much of a push-over with her fickle senators – a balance that wasn’t easy to learn. Sentient relations had always been her weakness. In exchange, she gave him power and the ability to make change, despite their people’s mistrust of him.

“Scared I’ll go on a rampage and try to assassinate you?” asked Lux in a mocking tone.

“It’s not funny,” said Pallas, seriously.

“No, I suppose it’s not,” he said. He remembered both of his foolish attempts of violent revenge and assassinations. He’d been passionate, young and stupid, but he’d learnt his lesson. “…I’ve decided to forgive you,” he said. “You’ve proven to me that you are truly repentant and you’ve worked hard to make up for my mother’s death. You’ve kept your word. So, I forgive you.”

“… Good for you,” said Pallas.

Lux looked at her strangely. “No ‘thank you’, no feelings of relief?”

“With all due respect, your forgiveness of me is between you and yourself,” said Pallas. “Whether I can forgive myself is a different matter entirely. I’m going to carry your mother’s death with me until the day I die.”

“You make me a bad son,” said Lux.

“That’s not true,” said Pallas.

He was angry now. “So, I can forgive you, but you can’t?” asked Lux. “Who do you think you are?” Pallas sighed. “You want to know what I want? You want to know what you can give me so I don’t… go on a rampage, as you’re so scared of. You can give me old life back. Both of our old lives back!”

Pallas looked at him sadly, her mind racking to remember what their previous life was like before the war. “What life?” she asked. The war and everything she did during it clouded everything.

“Where we were friends, not cold colleagues. Where Dooku and the Dark Lord didn’t overshadow everything. Where there was peace both in the galaxy and in your head,” he said. “When we were happy.”

It was incredible how lonely it could be after a war. There was no one left to trust. He was cut off from his home, his family and his peers. Steela had been furious with him and so were the rest of his Onderon allies. Who could one share their wounds with if not one’s close ones?

It had been wise to send him to the Republic’s capital. The distance and paradoxically simultaneous constant communication with Pallas had been beneficial. It gave him perspective, space and time. On Coruscant, he'd learnt and grown and thought, but they were all still weary of the Separatist outsider – the formal, Senate-approved spy. It was to be Lux Bonterri’s greatest irony that the only person who could understand him was his mother’s murderer.

“I’m sorry, Lux,” said Pallas. “I can’t give you that any more than I can turn back time.”

“I’m not asking you to turn back time, damnit!” Lux snarled. Then he checked himself, realising that he had risen his voice. He sighed rubbed his eyes and temple. He’d thought about this subject for so long. “Don’t you still love me?”

“You’re drunk, Lux,” Pallas said instantly, barely letting him finish the sentence. “I think it’s time you went home. We’ll finish this conversation later.” She reached for the control panel. “I’ll call my guards to take you home.”

He grabbed her wrist and stopped her from pressing the button. “You’re very good at… compartmentalizing, aren’t you? Distancing feelings from purpose. Being completely focused on one thing and putting everything else to the side. It’s… infuriating. Isn’t it time we were both happy? Don’t we both deserve it? We could make each other happy.”

“We’d never be happy,” said Pallas, sternly. “I’d always be the person who murdered your mother whilst we made love. And you will always hold that against me.”

“And I’ve decided to forgive you for it,” he said. “I understand why you had to do it. I’ve had a lot of time, Pal. I kriffing forgive you!”

“Forgiven, not forgotten,” she amended.

“What will it take?” asked Lux. Pallas was silent, watching his grey gaze fearfully.

She didn’t remember leaning in. It must have been him, but whoever started it, they were suddenly in a violent kiss, wrapped in one another’s arms. Angry red gashes scraped on both of their necks and their lips were raw. He tasted of whiskey and parchment, she tasted like the smell a blaster made when it was fired. “What will it take?” he whispered against her lips, before kissing her again, even more ravenously. “Answer me,” he said as she kissed her neck. She growled in the back of her throat. She should have pushed him away, but instead her fingers went into his silky hair and pulled him onto her lips. There was hunger and year long yearning that needed to be satiated.

A hologram buzz interrupted them and broke them apart in a guilt jolt. Pallas answered it immediately, not caring who it was. She needed time to think and she couldn’t think on Lux’s lips.

The blue holograms of her special droid unit commander and Obi-Wan Kenobi appeared before her. The droid gave her a customary salute and Obi-Wan inclined his head a little.

“We have good news, general. We’ve found and secured the target,” said Obi-Wan. He was wrapped in a Jedi robe and a weary, tired look was on his face. Pallas had hired him for this job and he’d worked tirelessly to complete it.

“The target is located on the planet of Mustafa. What are your orders, Supreme Leader?” asked the droid commander.

“Excellent,” said Pallas, instinctually the general. “I’ll uh… I’ll send a special task force to your position immediately.” She switched off the hologram and grabbed her keys. “We’ll have to continue this conversation later, ambassador. Something vital has come up.” She walked past him, avoiding his steely, vulnerable gaze.

“And we’re back to formality and running away,” he said, rolling his eyes. His hand smoothed his ruffled hair.

“This is important,” she said.

He gave her a look saying that he didn’t buy it. “I would have thought that two years was enough for you to think about it. It has certainly been enough for me,” he said. “If you need me, you’ll know where to find me, Supreme Leader.”

The door of the offices shut behind her and her squadron of loyal Magna guard droids were on her heels. She politely nodded to any senators and politicians that saluted her in the hallways, but her mind was too busy to notice the form of Anakin Skywalker trailing behind,

“Escaping your own party?” Skywalker asked. He had followed the rushing young woman and her billowing robes to the ship bay.

“I have some important business to take care of,” she said brusquely. “I’m sure your wife misses you, Skywalker. Don’t keep her waiting.”

“My wife sent me to make sure you’re alright, general, and to escort you if you’re leaving the safety of the capital,” said Skywalker.

Pallas sighed loudly. Being a Head of State entailed a certain feeling of… suffocation that had not been present when she was a general. Her father never seemed to suffer under this pressure, but she had often wondered if Palpatine had languished in this… patronizing helplessness. Everyone had to know where she was at all times. A suitable bodyguard was supposed to be with her at all times. She was supposed to be reachable at all times. It shouldn’t have bothered her – she had been raised under similar constraints after all – but it did. It was like being a mother to a million, needy, greedy children.

She briefly thought about her next destination. An ex-Jedi warrior wouldn’t be terrible idea. “Fine,” she said. “Don’t crash my ship, Skywalker.”

[][][]

Bail Organa had chosen his ambassador wisely too. Padme Amidala had been more than happy to work towards peace, even if her husband was sceptical about her being surrounded by so many Separatists and droids. A sector of Raxulon had been transformed into a Republic embassy. Clones patrolled the sector and Republic law was enforced within those walls. The ambassador’s apartments overlooked the sun-kissed city.

Ares of Serenno sat on the marble floor of the luxury apartment, looking at the shining moons of his homeworld. He took a deep breath, savouring the moment. He found it quite ironic that after the whole war, Anakin Skywalker was raising his family in the Separatist capital.

“Come on, Leia. Come to Auntie Snips,” Ahsoka’s voice brought his attention back. The Togruta was sitting on the marble a few feet away from him. She was smiling at a little brunette girl and stretching her hands out to her.

The toddler in question stood on wobbly little legs and made timid steps forward. Her brother was napping on the silk couch behind Ares’ head, already exhausted by his two babysitters. They’d both only recently learnt how to walk and the art was still quite confusing. The Skywalker twins had been born the day after the peace treaty was officially ratified. A month premature, but they were healthy and so was the mother. It had been a family joke that they had waited for the peace to finally be born. The first of a new generation who wouldn’t know the horror of the clone war. They were the new hope of the galaxy.

“Sips!” she giggled adorably and fell into the embrace. Ares amused himself by briefly imagining the shock and betrayal when she’d learn that “Snips” or “Sips” wasn’t her aunt’s real name.

“Atta girl, Leia,” said Ahsoka. “Now go to Uncle Shiny!” she said, pointing at Ares who stretched out his own arms to welcome her.

“Come to the dark side, Leia,” said Ares, grinning. The little Skywalker whimpered and huddled into the Togruta’s warm and safe embrace.

“Great,” deadpanned Ahsoka, as she stroked the girl’s head. “You scared her.”

“I’m only trying to seduce her,” said Ares, rolling his eyes. “Fine, I’ll bring cookies next time.”

“When you say stuff like that it really makes me wonder how they trust us to babysit,” said Ahsoka, looking at the child in her arms. Padme had to attend a party at the Confederate Parliament and Anakin, never one to trust Separatists easily, went with her.

“Why do you think Skywalker assigned _both_ of us for this…” said Ares, gesturing to the child, “mission.”

“I keep thinking that they’re trying to hint something,” said Ahsoka. She looked at Leia who stared back at her. “Subtlety is not your dad’s strong suit, is it, little one?”

Ares looked at the little girl in Ahsoka’s arms. He took on a pale colour.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ahsoka.

“I’d be a terrible father,” said Ares.

“Why would you think that?” asked Ahsoka.

“I don’t… exactly have a great family history,” said Ares.

“And that matters because…?” asked Ahsoka. “Enlighten me and this young lady.” Ahsoka put her chin on the top of the toddler’s head. Leia was staring at him with wide curious brown eyes.

“Wait. You’re not… are you?” he asked suddenly panicked.

“No, Ares,” she said and rolled her eyes. “I’m not. If I was, this is not how I would tell you.” She stroked Leia’s head again. “But you still haven’t answered our question, Uncle Shiny.”

“Kids in my family tend to…” Ares made a sign of his neck being slit open, “their parents.”

“Only the lousy parents,” said Ahsoka.

“Which I inevitably will be,” said Ares. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

Ahsoka sighed. “Fine,” said Ahsoka. “But let me say one thing and then we won’t talk about it: you’re more than your father’s son. That’s all.” She looked at the toddler in her arms. “Go give Uncle Shiny a hug, Leia. He’s not so scary, is he? He looks like he needs a hug.” The little toddler was strangely obedient to the Togruta and strode cautiously over to her uncle’s equally strong and warm arms.

“I hope they’ll never have to fight in a war,” he said, as he held the toddler. “I hope they don’t become child-soldiers.”

Ahsoka smiled at him. “Yeah, me too,” she said.

It had been two years and neither of them could sleep well. Nightmares plagued both of them. Ares dreamt of Pompeii and Dooku and Mortis. Ahsoka would toss and turn until he shook her awake and then tell him about Kalifa and Barriss and the villagers of Karlac. Not to mention the hundreds, thousands of clones, named or numbered, that also haunted them. Above all, the Dark Lord of the Sith reserved a special place in their nightmares.

It occurred to Ares just then that Skywalker didn’t ask them to babysit for their own pleasure. No doubt the Chosen One felt much more at ease to leave his children under their protection. Ares shook his head and reached out his hand to touch Luke’s foot, just to make sure he hadn’t vanished into thin air.

It was hard to survive a war.

“Funny. 14-year-old you would vehemently disagree,” he said. Then he heightened his pitch and did an impression of her. “ _I’m not too young, master! Stop calling me youngling! My kill count is double my age!”_

Ahsoka smiled, humourlessly. “Bold of you to assume my kill count was only double my age,” she said.

“Case in point,” said Ares.

“If my memory serves me right then you weren’t much better,” Ahsoka said with a grin. Her voice lowered and gave an imitation of him. “ _The Jedi Order sucks. My sister sucks. Coruscant sucks. Obi-Wan and Anakin suck. The love of my life is a celibate Jedi, which sucks.”_ Her impression amused Leia who erupted into a bout of giggles.

“Great role model you are. Very mature,” he said, stroking the toddler’s head with his gold-copper prosthetic, before they both smirked and broke into laughter.

[][][]

They touched down on a landing platform on the planet of Mustafa where a few Separatist ships and droid squadrons were already waiting for them. Anakin finished the landing cycle and turned to the co-pilot seat where Pallas was staring at the fiery, hellish landscape.

“I can feel the shadow of the dark side here,” said Skywalker. “What are you here for?” 

“Palpatine’s secret lair,” she said as she stood up. “It’s finally been found.”

Skywalker followed her, muttering questions until his eyes landed on his former master, who had come to greet them. “Master? What are you doing here?”

Obi-Wan crooked an eyebrow at his former student. “This is the special task force? You brought Anakin?”

“And myself. I had a spare evening. Skywalker is on loan,” Pallas amended. “Now, where is it?”

“Follow me,” said Obi-Wan. He led them into the depths of the anti-gravity station. The heat was stifling even with the cooling ducts. Pallas noticed both Jedi tense at the pulsating darkness. “Your droids are searching through the computers to find… anything we don’t already know, but I’ve discovered something that you might find interesting.” He pushed open a door and revealed a laboratory.

It was a wide, bright room not unlike The Laboratory Pallas had built for Dr. Vindi two years ago to restore her brother’s memories. Grotesque cleavers and forceps curled around a massive operating table. Palpatine’s med droids had been fitted with retraining bolts by Pallas’ battle units.

“Impressive, but what’s so special about it?” asked Pallas.

“This,” said Obi-Wan and led them to the inventory, opening its doors to reveal the instruments of the Dark Lord.

It was Anakin’s eyes that widened most as he realised what Obi-Wan had dug out. An entire inventory of prosthetic lungs and pipes, breathing tubes, metallic prosthetics, skin replacements were laid out, ready for an operation. A breathing diagnostics box was there, inactivated. Most horrifically of all was the black mask that looked like a skull. Its red eyes glared angrily at the three of them, promising vengeance and pain for being forbidden its true devastating potential. It made their stomach’s clench to see all these tools of evil.

Skywalker reached out and picked up the black visor with trembling hands. “W—who..?” was all he could ask, but he already knew.

“The Dark Lord’s plan for the Chosen One,” said Obi-Wan. Against his best interests, he had become an expert on Palpatine’s plots in the past year or so.

“Your final slave chains,” said Pallas.

Anakin crushed the visor in his hands with his bare hands. The shards fell on the floor, shattered and broken. The last plans of the Dark Lord of the Sith destroyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t resist writing a little epilogue. I needed it to be a round 20, not 19. Hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> PLEASE leave a REVIEW!

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to COMMENT and leave kudos!  
> 


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